Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Mrs. Frances Sheridan, With

nia

: MEMOIRS

OF THE LIFE A.ND WRITINGS

OF MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN, MOTHER OF THE LATE RIGHT HON. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN,

AN» AUTHOlt OF

" SIDNKY BIDDULPH," " NOURJAHAD," AND " THE DISCOVERY."

WITH REMARKS UPON A LATE LIFE OF

N. R. B. SHE THE RIGHT H O RIDA N ;

ALSO CRITICISMS AND SELECTIONS FKOM THE WORKS OF MRS. SHERIDAN;

AND

BIOGRAPHICAL ANECDOTES OF HER FAMILY AND CONTEMPORARIES.

BY HER GRAND-DAUGHTER, ALICIA LEFANU.

LONDON ..f^'\

-'3 PRINTED FOR G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER, AVE-MARIA-LANE.

1824. ;,^

;

YRL '

PREFACE.

The Author of these Memoirs was encouraged to the undertaking, by the advice and assistance of several intelHgent friends and, principally, by the approbation of the

Rev. Dr. Samuel Parr : whose regard for the virtues, and admiration of the talents of Mrs. Frances Sheridan, induced him kindly to extend to the Author the great advantage of his valuable observations and connections, during the progress of the work.

An account of the life of Mrs. Frances Sheridan would be incomplete, without some particulars relating to her family.

The passages that place the conduct of the late Right Honourable Richard Brinsley ;

VI PREFACE.

Sheridan in a new and interesting point of view, are drawn from the letters of a lady of the most distinguished respectability and whose judgment of his character was formed upon the basis of a long intimacy and friendship.

All the other anecdotes are derived from the Author's mother, Mrs. H. Lefanu, only surviving daughter of Thomas Sheri- dan, M.A., and of Mrs. Frances Sheridan, and sister of the late Right Honourable

R. B. Sheridan. —

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. Page Account of the Family of Mrs. Frances Sheridan.— Singular

Education of Miss Chamberlaine.— Early Discouragement.

—Anecdote of her Benevolence and Piety. —First Literary

Attempt at the Age of Fifteen.— Eugenia and Adelaide.

Sermons.—Mr. Sheridan.—Defence of the Character of

Thomas Sheridan, A.M.— Opinion of Dr. Parr. —Humorous

Anecdote of Mr. Sheridan.—Singular Manner of Miss

Chamberlaine's Introduction to him.—Fable of " The Owls."

—Pamphlet in Prose.—Theatrical Disputes.— Fortunate

Termination.—Miss Chamberlaine's Marriage 1

CHAPTER n.

Domestic Life of Mrs. Frances Sheridan. —Female Intimates.

—Family of Mr. Sheridan. — Anecdote of the Banshi. Ancient and Modern Irish Cookery.—Quilca.— The Painted Chamber.—Whimsical Anecdotes of Walter Chamberlaine.

—Poem of " The Three Travellers." 31

CHAPTER III.

Birth of Mrs. Sheridan's Children.— Thomas.— Charles Fran-

cis.—Richard Brinsley, and Alicia. —Second Theatrical

Riot.— Contradiction of a passage in Mrs. Inchbald's Re-

marks upon the Tragedy of Mahomet.— Unpublished Anec-

dote of Digges.—Second Anecdote of Digges.—Birth of —

viii CONTENTS.

Sackville Sheridan.—Anecdote of Lord Gerniaine.— Anec-

dote of the Duke of Dorset 48

CHAPTER IV.

Mrs. Sheridan's Removal to England.—Return in 1766.—

Original Anecdotes of Spranger Barry.— Mr. Samuel Whyte

of Grafton-street.—Examination of a passage in Dr. Wat-

kins's " Memoirs" relative to the late Right Hon. R. B.

Sheridan. —Final Removal to England in 1758.— Mrs. She-

ridan's Circle of English Friends.— Samuel Richardson.

Birth of Mrs. Sheridan's youngest daughter Elizabeth.

Miss Pennington.—Anecdotes.— Mrs. Scott. — Sarah Field-

ing. — Garrick. — Murphy. — Original Anecdote of Mrs.

Barry.—History of the Tragedy of " The Earl of Essex" 73

CHAPTER V.

Sidney Biddulph. — Successful in France.—Abbe Prevost.

Dramatized in France.—L'Habitant de la Guadaloupe.

Curious Note annexed to the French edition of Sidney

Biddulph.—Different Judgments passed upon it. — Dr.

Johnson.—Mrs. Barbauld.—Dr. Parr.—Mr. Fox.—Critique on Sidney Biddulph.— Smollett.— Sidney presented under a

new point of view.—A Work of Humour as well as Pathos.

— Selections from Sidney Biddulph 110

CHAPTER VI.

Mrs. Sheridan in London.—Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson.

Samuel Richardson. —Mrs. Peckhard.— Colloquial powers of

Mrs. Sheridan.— Learning.—Description of the person of

Mrs. Sheridan. —Anecdotes.—Habits of Self-control. — Love —

CONTENTS. ix

I'age of Truth. —Anecdote.— Second removal to Windsor.—Wind-

sor Anecdotes.—" The Discovery."—Examination of a pas-

sage in Dr. Watkins relative to Garrick and " The Discovery."

—Friendly disposition of Mrs. Sheridan.—Mr. Armstrong —

Humorous competition between " The Discovery" and " The

Duenna."—Whimsical conduct of Mrs. Cholmondely.

Critique on the Comedy 195

CHAPTER Vn.

Portrait of Mrs. Cholmondely.—The original of several of

Mrs. Brookes' Heroines.— Friendship for Mrs. Sheridan. Anecdotes of Catherine Macauley.—Humorous Vanity of

Mrs. Clive.—Anecdote —The Dupe.—Ode to Patience.

Mrs. Woffington's Phasdra.— Epigram on a Reply made to

Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough —AfHiction, an Apologue.

Distinguished compliment paid to Mr. Sheridan, in Ireland.

—Mr. Sheridan's opinion of the Female Sex.—Bath and

Bristol. —Mrs. Sheridan becomes a Pupil of Mr. Linley's.

The Linley Family —Juvenile Anecdote of Thomas Linley. —Mr. Sheridan and Miss Hannah More. —Dangerous Ac- cident to Mrs. Sheridan —'Edinburgh.— Mr. Sheridan ho-

noured with the Freedom of the City.—Lady Maxwell, mo-

ther to the Duchess of Gordon.—Removal to France 230

CHAPTER Vni.

Right Hon. Richard Brinsley Sheridan.—Anecdotes of Richard

Brinsley at Harrow.— Journey of Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan

in France.—Baptiste. — Paris — Hotel de Picardie.— Clairon.

— Blois.— Whimsical inducement to Mr. Sheridan to settle

there. — Story of Mademoiselle Hemiii. — The Cottage of the

Loire. — Correction of a Misconstruction in the " Memoirs —

X CONTENTS.

Page " of R. B. Sheridan —Madame Des Combes —Comic Anec-

dotes. — Story of Poor llobin.— Respect shewn to Mr. She-

ridan by the travelling English.—Friendliness of the French — Anecdote of Father Mark —Melancholy story of an

English Lady.— Extraordinary Anecdote of another Lady.

—Family of Montigny 251

CHAPTER IX.

Literary Occupations of Mrs. Sheridan resumed.—Critique on

the Second Part of Sidney Biddulph —Singular Origin of Nourjahad — Miss Sophia Lee, Author of Canterbury Tales

—" Trip to Bath."—Examination into the reports about that

Comedy,— Mr. Sheridan obliged to go to Ireland. —Decline

of Mrs. Sheridan's health.— Amiable disposition and resig-

nation in her sufferings.—Religious bigotry of her attend-

ants. —Trials of Mrs. Sheridan on her Death-bed.—Death.

!—Respect paid by the French to her remains 289

CHAPTER X.

Addition to the Memoirs of Mrs. Frances Sheridan.— Re-

marks upon a passage in Dr. Watkins.— Mr. Thomas Sheri-

dan and Dr. Johnson.—The late Marquis Townshend.

Garrick.— Changes in the public taste. —Boswell.—Original

Anecdote of Lord Auchinleck.—Original Anecdote of Bos-

well and His late Majesty George the Third.—The Man of

Feeling.— Anecdote of Dr. Johnson 3J2

CHAPTER XI.

General Paoli.—Paoli and Napoleon Buonaparte.— Misrepre-

sentation respecting the late Right Hon. R. B. Sheridan.

Louisa Bellenden Kerr. — Mr. Sheridan and Rasselas.—Do- CONTENTS. xi

Page mestic life of the elder Mr. Sheridan. — Mr. Sheridan's the-

atrical respectabihty — The Kildare-street club, — Manager

Heaphy. — Anecdote of a beautiful young Actress.—Contra-

diction of a saying imputed to the elder Mr. Sheridan.—

Mrs. Vesey's Conversaziones.— Original Anecdote of Dr.

Johnson. —Tributes to the merit of the elder Mr. Sheridan.

— His hopes nearly being realized in Ireland.—Disappoint-

ment.—Decease.—Refutation of the statement in the " Me-

moirs of R. B. Sheridan," respecting the funeral of Mr. She-

dan.—Mrs. Siddons ,.., 336

CHAPTER Xn.

Anecdotes of the Right Honourable Richard Brinsley Sheri-

dan and his family. —Contradiction of a statement in Dr.

Watkins's Memoirs.—Lady Margaret Fordyce the real hero-

ine of "The Picture Varnished."— Miss Linley becomes

Mrs. Elizabeth Sheridan.—The biographer of R. B. Sheridan

misinformed respecting her. — The Royal Concert.—The

Duenna. —Anecdote of Barry the Actor.—Examination into

the mysterious reports circulated relative to the real author

of the School for Scandal.— History of the School for Scan-

dal.—Morality of the piece.—Contradiction of several mis-

statements respecting the Linley Family.—Affecting death

of Miss Maria Linley.— Contradiction of the statement

relating to Mrs. Elizabeth Sheridan's death.— Interesting

particulars of the late R. B. Sheridan.—Mr. Charles Francis

Sheridan.— Conclusion 292

—

MEMOIRS

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN.

CHAPTER I. Account of the Family of Mrs. Frances Sheridan.—Singular Education of Miss Chamberlaine.—Early Discouragement. —Anecdote of her Benevolence and Piety.— First Lite- rary Attempt at the Age of Fifteen.—Eugenia and Ade- laide. — Sermons—Mr. Shei'idan.—Defence of the Charac- ter of Thomas Sheridan, A.M.—Opinion of Dr. Parr. Humorous Anecdote of Mr. Sheridan.— Singular Manner of Miss Chamberlaine's Introduction to him. — Fable of " The Owls."—Pamphlet in Prose.— Theatrical Disputes. —Fortunate Termination.—Miss Chamberlaine's Marriage.

The life of Mrs. Frances Sheridan is in

various respects more interesting than that of

most literary women.

As excelling in different modes of composi-

tion, eacli of whicli is supposed to require a

B 2 ]\I i: 31 O I R S O F

peculiar talent ; as uniting to uncommon powers of conversation, every domestic virtue that most endears and distinguishes a woman ; and as the mother of a man confessedly pre-eminent in

dramatic wit and parliamentary eloquence ; she certainly deserves some memorial, fuller and more distinct than those brief or erroneous biographical notices, which alone have as yet appeared before the public.

Frances Chamberlaine was born A.D. 1724.

Her family was of English extraction, her grandfather. Sir Oliver Chamberlaine, being an

EngUsh Baronet. Her father. Dr. Philip Cham- berlaine, was Prebend of Rathmichael, Diocese of Dublin,* Archdeacon of Glendalough, and

Rector of St. Nicholas Without.f

Dr. Chamberlaine married Miss Whyte, an

English lady, who had three brothers : Captain

Whyte, R.N., Colonel Wliyte, and Solomon

Whyte, Deputy Governor of the Tower. By this marriage Dr. Chamberlaine had five children. Walter, the eldest, was in the church,

* Collated in 1713. f In Dublin. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. O

and died unmarried and rather young ; the second son, Richard, was educated for a surgeon, and was entered on board a man of war

in that capacity ; Richard Chamberlaine married the daughter of his commander, Captain

Pattison. By his marriage with this lady, who was related to Lord Hardwicke, he had no children.

On the death of vSolomon Whyte, Esq., his maternal uncle, Richard Chamberlaine, inhe- rited a considerable estate in the county of

Longford, in Ireland ; and dying without chil-

dren, this estate finally devolved upon his eldest

nephew, Charles Francis Slieridan, as heir at

law.

William, the third son of Dr. Philip Cham-

berlaine, was of the profession of the law, and

died a judge in Jamaica. He married a lady of

the name of Smyth, by whom lie had three

sons ; and one daughter, wlio is still living. The two daughters of Dr. Chamberlaine

were, Anne, married to the Reverend John Fish,

A.M., a clergyman of a highly respectable

B 2 4f M E I\I O I 11 S O F

family in the county of Kildare ; and Frances, afterwards Mrs. Sheridan, the subject of these Memoirs.

Her mother dying soon after her birth, Miss

Chamberlaine from her earUest years, had to contend with disadvantages of education, which in a less ardent mind would have crushed every germ of literary talent.

Dr. Chamberlaine was an admired preacher, and strict in the performance of all his cleri- cal duties. He was, at the same time, a great humourist, the strongest proof of which is, that he was with difficulty prevailed on to allow his daughter to learn to read; and to write, he affirmed to be perfectly superfluous in the education of a female. The Doctor considered the possession of this art, as tending to nothing but the multiplication of love-letters, or the scarcely less dangerous interchange of sentiment in the confidential effusions of female correspondence.

Happily for Miss Chamberlaine, she was blest with affectionate brothers, who vied with ]MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 5 each other in averting the effects of her father's injudicious prohibitions. By her eldest brother,

Walter, she was privately instructed in writing ; and finding in his sister an inquiring mind, which led her to look beyond the usual routine of female education, he proceeded to impart to her a knowledge of the Latin language : a circumstance which she has pleasingly commemo- rated in the instmctions given to his sister by

Sir George, in her novel of " Memoirs of Miss Sidney Biddulph."

By her brother Richard she was initiated into the science of botany : an acquisition which slie chiefly confined to the purpose of benefiting the poor of her father's parish, to whose distresses and wants she liberally administered relief; and prescribed for them in such cases as did not go beyond her limited skill She at the same time evinced an enlightened and truly Christian

zeal for their spiritual welfare ; of which one anecdote will furnish a sufficient proof.

There was, among Dr. Chamberlainc's pa-

rishioners, a poor creature who had been given

B 5 6 M E INI O I II S OF up by his parents as a born idiot, and incapable of any instruction whatsoever. Frances, or

" Miss Fanny," as the Rector's youngest daughter was usually styled, thought that, by care and judicious treatment, a ray of light might be communicated to the mind of this

unfortunate being : and, influenced by that patient and extensive charity which *' hopeth all things," she undertook, herself, the task of his tuition.

She succeeded in teaching him to read, and

to repeat the Creed and Lord's Prayer : but, just as she flattered herself with having communicated to his benighted mind a dawn of intellectual light, a strange and ludicrous question, put by him on a mysterious point of religion, showed that he was utterly deficient in comprehension of what he had thus acquired by rote, and drew on Miss Chamberlaine much good-natured raillery from her brothers respecting the " surprising proficiency of her pupil."

Not discouraged by this, she continued her in-

structions ; and, by patience and perseverance. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 7 had, at length, the satisfaction of seeing the moral state of the unfortunate outcast in whom she had interested herself considerably amelio-

rated ; of seeing him sensible of her kindness, and taking his place regularly every Sunday at church, in somewhat of the restored dignity of a rational being.

At the early age of fifteen, her talent for literary composition evinced itself. Notwith- standing his aversion to writing, and writing ladies. Dr. Chamberlaine could not refuse his housekeeper paper to keep the house accounts, and a portion of this paper (ill-coloured and

coarse, it is true) Miss Fanny thought it no

robbery to appropriate to the far nobler purpose

of writing a romance, in two volumes, entitled

** Eugenia and Adelaide." This novel, which

remained in MS. till published (after her de-

cease, and without the author's name) by Dilly,

displays unquestionable proofs of a fertile ima-

gination and inventive skill ; indeed, the whole

style and story may be said to breathe the fresh-

ness of fifteen —the happy period at which the B 4 ]\I E IVI O 1 R S OF novel was written. The plot, as the name im- ports, is a double one, containing two complete stories, each in its way interesting and attrac-

tive. That of Eugenia is full of Spanish im- broglio, and highly susceptible of comic height-

ening. It was, in fact, at a subsequent period,

adapted for the stage in the form of a comic

drama, by the author's eldest daughter, Mrs.

Lefanu, of Dublin ; and was represented with

success at the theatre of that metropolis.

If the story of Eugenia is more animated and

sprightly, that of Adelaide is more tender and

pathetic. It possesses a deeper and more

powerful interest, and is wound up with a de-

gree of skill truly surprising in so young a

writer. The episodical characters introduced

evince still further the invention and resources

she already possessed ; and some allusions to the

historical events of the period with which she

has connected her narrative, bear witness alike

to the extent of her reading, and the accuracy

of her discrimination. Dr. Chamberlaine's pre-

judices against female authorship continuing in MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 9 full force, this first literary sin was, of course, kept a profound secret from him. But, having succeeded, we may suppose, to her own satisfaction, in the composition of a romance, the ambition of our young authoress took a bolder flight, and, having a father and brother both in the church, the spirit of imitation impelled her next to try her powers in writing a sermon.

In this attempt (so different from the preceding) she was also successful, and was induced, in consequence of this confirmed confidence in herself, to compose another.

Neither of these manuscript sermons have I

been able to procure ; but they were long in the possession of the family, and were reckoned to display considerable ability.

Except the novel and the two sermons, 1 know of no literary productions of Mrs. Sheri- dan from her fifteenth to her one-and-twentieth year, between which time I venture to place them, not having the means of fixing the date more accurately. It was about that time Miss

Chamberlaine resumed her pen in a very dif- 10 M E M O I R S O F ferent manner, and with very different intentions.

Her father having, some time previous to his decease, sunk into a state of mental imbeciUty, those hours that she could spare from necessary attention to him, were much more at Miss

Chamberlaine's disposal than formerly. She now sometimes ventured with her brothers to a play, an amusement which she had never before

had the opportunity of enjoying : Dr. Cham- berlaine's objections to the drama being equal to his prejudices against female literature.

The impressions, therefore, which the novelty of the scene made on Miss Chamberlaine's

heart and mind, were proportion ably vivid ; and it was upon one of these public occasions that she first saw Mr. Sheridan, who, in conjunction with Garrick and Barry, furnished at that time to the lovers of the drama an intellectual treat of the highest description.

Mr. Sheridan, who was not above twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, had just entered upon his career of Manager of the Dublin MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 11

Theatre, with every advantage and every prepossession in his favour. Born an Irishman, he had at the same time the advantage of receiving his early education at Westminster school, where he was the friend and contemporary of the Rev.

Dr. Markham, afterwards Archbishop of York ; and it has been remembered by his school-fellows, that they were reckoned the two best scholars of their standing. From this learned seminary he was removed to the University of

Dublin, where he was placed under the tuition of Dr. Clarke. His youth was spent as the associate and classfellow of most of the young nobility and gentry of the kingdom. He pursued his academical studies diligently, and took his first degree in the year 1736. In 1758," when his literary character had been established in England, Mr. Sheridan was honoured by the

University of Oxford with the degree of Mas-

ter of Arts ; and at Cambridge, March 16, 1759, he obtained the same distinction. He was not a scholar by profession, but his classical attainments were much respected by his learned 12 MEMOIRS OF friend Dr. Robert Sumner, Master of Harrow

School, and by the well-known Dr. Parr.

With such qualifications, it is rather surprising Mr. Sheridan should have made choice of the stage in preference to one of the learned professions. A circumstance (peculiar at the time to his father. Dr. Sheridan) might have had some influence in determining his son's inclinations in favour of the Drama. This was, the periodical representation of a Greek play, which it was customary for Dr. Sheridan to have performed by his head class, previous to their entrance into the University. One of these pieces was the Hippolytus of Euripides. At other times the plays of Sophocles were acted. Dr.

King, Archbishop of Dublin, was present at tlie

representation of the Hippolytus of Euripides ; and on another occasion, the Lord Lieutenant honoured one of these exhibitions with his presence. The knowledge that his father had countenanced such a custom, might have early impressed the mind of Mr. Sheridan with ideas

of the antiquity and importance of the stage : MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 13

but whatever ground there may be for this conjecture, the fact is certain, that the excelleni^

education Mr. Sheridan had received, the re

spectabiUty of his connexions, and his amiable

private character, gave him an influence, both

with the performers and the pubHc, which it

would have been impossible for a low-born ad-

venturer in the dramatic line, or a stranger to

the country, however great his merit, to have

obtained.

In the words of the historian of the stage,

Mr. Sheridan " possessed a happy and agreeable manner of address towards those he wished

to engage, which inspired them with a personal

love for him.

" As a performer, the excellence which he

had attained at that early age, in a wide range

both of comic and tragic characters, seemed to

give the most advantageous promise of future

perfection in his art.

" In private life, when his labours blessed him

with success, his greatest pleasure was in assisting his relatives and distrcst friends." 14 ME MOI n S OF

Such is the character given of Mr. Sheridan by a contemporary (Benjamin Victor, who acted under Mr. Sheridan's management as trea- surer to the Theatre), a man who from his situation was eminently qualified to judge of his manners and disposition, yet who was so far from being influenced by any personal partiality, that he ingenuously relates many little bicker- ings and jealousies in which he indulged.*

* In the " Memoirs of the PubHc and Private Life of the

Right Honourable Richard Brinsley Sheridan, by John

Watkins, LL.D," page 70, the following very different picture is given of his father.

" Mr. Sheridan was extremely opiniated and obstinate

among his associates ; cold, reserved, and dictatorial to his dependants.''

In opposition to this statement, I am happy to adduce the luminous definition of his mental and moral qualities kindly furnished me by the Rev. Dr. Parr, who had frequent opportunities of observing the real character of Mr. Sheridan's mind.

" Mr. Sheridan never appeared to me opiniated or dicta-

torial. He was whimsical, but not opiniated ; he was animated, but not dictatorial."

So far was he from indulging in the overbearing manners

that MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 15

The account of Mr. Sheridan's goodness of

heart might be also confirmed by the recollec-

that distinguished not only Johnson, but Baretti, and a

school of literary men at that period, that though he enjoyed with the most exquisite relish the company of persons

of talents and taste, no individual of an opposite descrip-

tion had to fear a mortification in his society ; nor, whether

he gave his opinion professionally or mingled in general con-

versation, had female diffidence ever to apprehend a rough reproach or a brutal sally from his lips.

As to the elder Mr. Sheridan's deportment towards his de-

pendants at the theatre, the biographer, who, both for the

moral character of the father, and the literary history of the

son, seems to have attentively consulted the old newspapers,

no doubt took up his ideas from some Dialogues published

through that channel, very many years after Mr. Sheridan

had given up the management ; but while he was still in the

highest reputation as an actor whenever he performed in

Dublin. These Dialogues, which bore the general title of

" A View of Stephen's Green," attacked every remarkable

character, and Mr. Sheridan pretty often among the rest. " They gave a false, but ludicrous description of his " pedantic

deportment among the actors, representing him as address-

ing them in Latin. They also described him as the tyrant

of the green-room, where his nod was watched with trem-

bling reverence, and where, upon his entrance, one actor

hastened l6 M E M O I R S O F tions of several descendants of those who had experienced it. Relations from whose gratitude and attachment he met with the most pleasing returns.*

hastened to take his hat, another took his stick, another set a chair for him, and so forth.

Mr. Sheridan, who never looked into this contemptible publication, long remained ignorant that he was himself a

subject of frequent and unwarrantable attack ; and on some one's remarking (perhaps with a malicious intention) in his presence, that these " Dialogues" were really intolerable in their unsparing severity, Mr. Sheridan observed with a naivete that was quite characteristic, " Isn't it very extraordinary that they should never have brought me in ?"

* This was particularly shown in the instance of his fa-

ther's sister and her family ; reduced to unforeseen distress by a most afflicting accident, that closed in an untimely manner her husband's useful life. Yet in the " Memoirs of the

Public and Private Life of the Right Honourable Richard

Brinsley Sheridan," p. 44, it is said, " The widow of the doctor, on his death, removed to Dublin, where she lived in

a very retired way many years, and died at an advanced

age in mean circumstances."

Is it credible that Mr. Sheridan, who was remarkable

for the scrupulous discharge of his relative duties, and who was MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 17

With the fair sex Mr. Sheridan was a distinguished favourite, on account of the elegance was at that very time assisting to the utmost of his power a more distant relation, should leave his own mother to pine in want and obscurity ? But the assertion is grounded on a total mistake.

Mr. Sheridan's mother died before her husband, the doctor, whose house was kept till the time of his own decease by

Miss Elizabeth Sheridan, his eldest daughter. The biographer, probably, confused Mrs. Elizabeth Sheridan, Dr. She- ridan's wife, with Mrs. Eleanor Sheridan, wife to his second son Richard, who did survive her husband, and who died at a very advanced age.

Neither should we allow too hasty a credit to the impressions liable to be created by Dean Swift's character of Mrs.

Elizabeth Sheridan, and by the name of " Xantippe," which he has somewhere bestowed on her. If the Dean had ever occasion to resent Mrs. Sheridan's ill-humour, it was considerably justified by the vexation the respectable mother of a family must have felt, on seeing her property lavished iu entertaining one, who often, from his whimsical singularities, denied her the respect due to a woman of birth and fortune, and the mistress of the house at which he was hospitably received. Miss Elizabeth Macfodden brought her husband, the doctor, an estate in land valued at ^'500 per annum, a con-

siderable sum in those days ; so that the marriage was far from being in any respect disadvantageous to him. C IS MEMOIRSOF of the dramatic entertainments he had provided

for them : but by none was he so enthusiasti- cally admired as by Miss Chamberlaine. Hav- ing obtained an introduction to the sisters of

Mr. Sheridan, Miss EUzabeth Sheridan and Mrs.

Sheen, the praises that she heard of him in the midst of his family, confirmed the prepossession that his appearance m public had first excited in her breast. It was his exemplary conduct as a son, a brother, and a friend, that riveted

her esteem ; for nature never formed a purer mind than hers, nor education a more truly modest, diffident, and gentle character. Thus began this partiality, which, in contradiction to all the prejudices and all the precautions of her father, was destined to unite Miss Chamber- laine's fate to that of a man connected with theatrical life, and to develope her talents for literature by an intercourse with one possessed of similar inclinations.

It does not appear that she had ever had any personal interview with Mr. Sheridan, till an occasion presented itself which enabled her, MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 19 without transgressing the bounds of propriety, to express the mingled regard and admiration which she felt for him.

This was on the occasion of the memorable riot of January 17^6, commonly calleti " Kelly's

Riot," the particulars of which are too well known, to be noticed here by any thing more than a very brief recapitulation.

This theatrical disturbance was occasioned by Mr. Sheridan's spirited resistance to an attempt made by a young Galway gentleman to force his way behind the scenes, whither he pursued one of the actresses (the celebrated

George Anne Bellamy) and so terrified her, that she was obliged to take refuge in her dressing- room, and could not again venture to appear on the stage. Nothing could be more temperate and moderate than the conduct held by Mr. Sheridan upon this occasion. But not so the manner in which Mr. Kelly (the name of the young gentleman) received it. After the play, he forced his way to the manager's dressing-room, and

c 2 *2() MEMOIRS OF there attacked Mr. Sheridan with sucli ungen- tleiimnhke language, as compelled him to exercise some degree of violence in his own defence. Inflamed with rage at his deserved disgrace, Kelly immediately left the theatre for a club, where several of his friends were assembled, and related what had passed, in the manner that best favoured his own views. He declared (an assertion totally devoid of foundation) that Mr. Sheridan's servants held him while their master unmercifully beat him. This so greatly excited the indignation of his friends, that a powerful fighting party was formed, and the next day all persons were threatened with violence who dared to espouse the party of Mr.

Sheridan. To such a height did they carry this spirit of vengeance, that some days afterwards, Mr. Sheridan, being to perform Horatio in the Fair Penitent, several letters, cards, and messages, were sent to him, warning him not to leave his house that evening, and to take particular care to be well guarded even there.

These friendly and well-meant admonitions, Mr. ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 21

Sheridan did not think it prudent to neglect and, in consequence, when the Galway gentlemen arrived at tlie theatre, they learnt, to their infinite mortification, that he was not to play that night. Incensed at thus missing their prey, they proceeded to the most extravagant

outrages : attacking tlie green room, breaking open the dressing-rooms, and even thrusting their swords into all the chests and presses of the wardrobe, in order to feel, as they said, if

Sheridan was not concealed there. Such conduct, of course, increased the terror and ill-will with which they were beheld by all tlie sobc]"

part of the public ; and, among the members of the college to which Mr. Sheridan had formerly belonged, and the higher order of citizens, a party was formed, to protect Mr. Sheridan from the confederacy of Mr. Kelly and his adherents.

The spirit thus excited soon spread from the

city of Dublin throughout the whole kingdom.

During the time tliis dispute lasted, it was the

custom of those that were for and against Mr.

Sheridan, to go about the streets provided with

c 3 22 IVI E M O I R S O F fire-arms, and apprehensions of the most serious nature were entertained, from the high state of irritation in the pubUc mind. A paper war was also commenced, in the course of which it is said as many pamphlets were published, as would, if collected, make a large octavo volume.

The first blow was struck by a letter that appeared in Faulkner's Journal, Dublin, Jan. 25,

1746.

This letter was a justification and defence of the conduct and character of Mr. Sheridan, and ably traced his unimpeachable career, as well known to his countrymen, as a gentleman, a man of letters, and a man of honour. This was followed up by a poetical effusion from a different hand. It was published without a name, being the production of Miss Chamber- laine. Mr. Sheridan was highly complimented in it through the medium of a dramatic fable. ; ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 523

THE OWLS:

A FABLE.

Addressed to Mr. Sheridan, on his late Affhir in the Theatre.

Envy will Merit still pursue,

As shade succeeds to light

And though a shade obstructs the view,

It proves the substance right.

If Worth appears, and gets its due,

(But oh ! how rare that gain !)

The satyrs and the mimic crew

Shall grin behind the scene.

Some artifice shall find a way.

Some secret whisper dwell

But to defeat such arts, you say,

The maxim is — do well.

Now hear a tale, a moral too,

Allow it poor, or pretty.

Tlie owls one day, (if Fame says true)

Composed a sage committee.

'Twas there resolved in cool debate,

Each offering his true sense ;

That Phcebus, source of light and heat.

Was nothing but a nuisance.

C l< ! —

24 iM E M O I R S O F

To whom the glorious lamp of day

In mildest radiance spoke :

" Shall I withdraw my genial ray

Because your vigil's broke?

" Shall Nature's frame and Nature's laws

By me be unattended,

Because, forsooth, a noble cause !

An Owl or two's offended !

" O sons of gloom ! get brighter sense,

More conscionably speak

Why should my beams be less intense

Because your eyes are weak ?

" The fault is yours, if faults you see,

The punishing be mine;

And my complete revenge shall be,

I still will rise and shine."

These lines, in the commencement of which the author evidently had the well-known sentiment of Pope in her memory, breathe the innocent enthusiasm of a youthful mind, ever prone to exaggerate the merits of the object it nas chosen, and they were successful in reach- ing the " Phoebus" of her verse. Miss Cham- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 25

berlaine*s next attempt was in prose ; and an anonymous pamphlet appeared from her pen, defending Mr. Sheridan's conduct with a vi- gour, elegance, and spirit, which could not fail of exciting his favourable attention towards the unknown author of it. The animosity of Mr.

Sheridan's enemies, however, continued unabated, and a party was formed to prevent his appearing in the character of Richard the

Third. Finding themselves foiled by the spirited opposition of the citizens, the collegians, and, above all, the celebrated patriot and physician Dr. Charles Lucas, they let the play proceed in quiet that night, left and the theatre ; but it was only to form fresh plans, and breathe forth deeper vows of vengeance. To those who are only accustomed to the bloodless distur- bances of a London theatre, the comparatively harmless ebullitions even of an O. P. riot, the dangerous predicament in which an Irish manager was placed, would scarcely be credible, if there were not so many authentic documents to prove it. The Galway men doomed Mr. Sheridan to 26 M E M O I R S O F

destruction. A horse was always in readiness,

for his murderer to depart at a minute's warn-

ing. Dr. Lucas was also marked out for death.

Such was the situation of affairs, when Mr.

Sheridan was once more called upon to brave

this prejudiced and incensed portion of the

public. He was to take a part in a cliarity

play, which the performers in the Dublin

Theatre annually gave ; and the governors,

who were all persons of consequence, insisted

upon their right to the benefit of this goodly

custom. They sent the manager word, that they would take upon themselves to protect him from violence or injury in the performance of it; yet, notwithstanding the governors, appeared there according to promise, with their white wands of office, notwithstanding the presence of above a hundred ladies of the first distinction, dressed in all the elegance of fashion, who, unable to obtain places in the pit and boxes, had, in order to assist and support the manager, accepted of accommodations on the stage, the clamour was so great that Mr. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 27

Sheridan was obliged to withdraw without speaking ; and after the riot and confusion of

this night, the theatre was shut up by order of

the Master of the Revels,

An appeal was made by both parties to the laws, and both parties were tried in the presence of Lord Chief Justice Marlay. Mr. Sheridan's

cause came on the first. He was tried on the ground of assaulting and beating the gentleman on the nineteenth of January, in his dressing-

room ; but the provocation he had received

appeared to the jury so amply to justify his

conduct, and it was so satisfactorily proved that no other person, save the manager, had touched the complainant, that the jury acquit- ted Mr. Sheridan without going out of the box.

The trial of his opponent, for the mischief done

at the theatre, in the dressing-rooms, and tiie

wardrobe, took up a greater portion of time.

The result was, that the assailant was found

guilty, and sentenced to a fine of £500 and

three months' imprisonment

After sentence was given, the Lord Chief 28 M E M O I R S O F

Justice animadverted upon the necessity of

maintaining order and decorum at the theatre ; adding, that if any person forced his way behind the scenes, where money was not taken, and that person was apprehended and brought into the court, and the fact proved there, he should be prosecuted with the utmost severity of the law.

The gentleman who had been thus condemned, after suffering one week's confinement, applied to Mr. Sheridan to obtain a mijtigation of his sentence. Mr. Sheridan instantly solicited the Government to relinquish tlie line of

£500, which was granted ; and then became solicitor and bail himself to the Court of King's

Bench for the enlargement of the prisoner.

Thus ended this memorable dispute : but not so transient were its consequences. The per- manent advantage which the theatre derived from Mr. Sheridan's firmness on this occasion, can only be estimated by a comparison of the sums received there (benefits excluded), from the year 1743 to 17-58, wliich was from two ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 29

thousand per annum to ten thousand : and this change was, by his contemporaries, entirely attributed to the happy revolution effected by

Mr. Sheridan in 174*G, and the additional in- ducements held out in consequence to all persons of rank and character in the country, to support with their presence and patronage the credit of the national drama.

When extricated from these unpleasant em- barrassments, Mr. Sheridan had leisure to reflect upon the unknown champion, who had so ably defended his cause, in publishing the best pamphlet that had been produced on the subject. He soon discovered the author, and the desire of an introduction to Miss Chamberlaine naturally followed. This introduction took place at the house of his sister, Mrs. Sheen and the interview produced in the mind of Mr.

Sheridan exactly the impression which Miss

Chamberlaine must be supposed to have de-

sired ; for Mr. Sheridan was so captivated by

her conversation, that a livx4y and reciprocal

attachment was the result of this first meeting, •SO M E M O I R S O F and they were married by her beloved brother, the Rev. Walter Chamberlaine, in the year

1747, Miss Chamberlaine having just completed her twenty-second year. —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 31

CHAPTER II. ,

Domestic Life of Mrs. Frances Sheridan.—Female Intimates. —Family of Mr. Sheridan. — Anecdote of the Banshi. Ancient and Modern Irish Cookery.— Quilca. —The Painted Chamber.—Whimsical Anecdotes of Walter Chamber- laine. — Poem of " The Three Travellers."

The first years of Mrs. Sheridan's marriage were passed in the happiest manner, but so as to leave her little leisure fur literary avocations.

As Mr. Sheridan had purchased the paternal property of Quilca from his elder brother, her time was divided between that country residence and Dublin, where Mr. Sheridan had a house, in Dorset Street.

But it was in the country that Mrs. Sheridan

passed some of her happiest hours ; and there her amiable disposition and cultivated mind attracted the notice and conciliated the regard of all her visitors.

Mrs. Sheridan's circle of town acquaintance was rather select than numerous, but her female ;

3^2 MEMOIRSOF

intimates were all distinguished for the best

qualities either of the heart or understanding.

Among them, I find the names of Mrs. Cun-

ningham, a lady of most amiable character and

considerable literary attainments ; and Mrs.

Montgomery, mother of the three celebrated

beauties, the Honourable Mrs. Beresford, Mrs.

Gardiner,* and Anna, Marchioness of Towns-

hend. Mrs. Sheridan was surrounded by her

husband's family, whose regard she cultivated

with affectionate and sedulous attention. Mr.

Sheridan had three sisters living. f The eldest,

* First wife of Lord Mountjoy.

f In the " Memoirs of the Public and Private Life of the Right Honourable Richard Brinsley Sheridan, by John

Watkins, LL.D.," page 44, it is said of Dr. Sheridan, " The youngest of his tivo daughters married," &c. ; but this

is a mistake. Dr. Sheridan had seve?i children : three sons,

James, Thomas, and Richard ; and four (not two) daughters.

Elizabeth, above-mentioned ; Anne (afterwards Mrs. Sheen)

Emily, who died young, and Hester (afterwards Mrs. Knowles).

Like many Irish ladies who resided during tlie early part of life in the country. Miss Elizabeth Sheridan was a firm believer in the Banshi, or female daemon attached to certain MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 33

Miss Elizabeth Sheridan, distinguished in her youth as a beauty at the castle of Dubhn, was

nine years older than Mr. Sheridan, to whom,

notwithstanding, she looked up with a mixture

of affection and reverence, amply justified by

the kindness and liberality of his conduct to-

wards her. This lady had a lively and agree-

able recollection of the days of Swift and Stella,

and often mentioned, from memory, many cir-

cumstances connected with that extraordinary

pair. Miss Elizabeth Sheridan at that time re-

sided chiefly with her married sister Mrs. Sheen,

at whose house Mrs. Sheridan had been first in- D

ancient Irish families. She seriously maintained that the

Banshi of the Sheridan family was heard wailing beneath

the windows of Quilca before the news arrived from France

of Mrs. Frances Sheridan's death at Blois, thus affording

them a preternatural intimation of the impending melancholy

event. A niece of Miss Sheridan's made her very angry by

observing, that as Mrs. Frances Sheridan was by birth u

Chamberlaine, a family of English extraction, she had no

right to the guardianship of an Irish fairy, and tliat there-

fore the Banshi must have made a mistake ! 34 IVI E M O I 11 S O F trodiiced to the object of her choice. Mrs.

Sheen was married in a manner apparently fortunate, and had several children, but died rather young. Mr. Sheen was an Englishman, and came over in the suite of a Lord Lieutenant.

He was a courtier, gay, fashionable, and distinguished for personal attractions ; but the death of his wife, which happened under circumstances peculiarly affecting, produced a great change in his temper and manners. He never could be brought to think of a second marriage, saying, that " no woman should ever take the place of Nancy Sheridan in his house or heart ;" and to this resolution, with which the charms and virtues of his first wife inspired him, he ever afterwards adhered. Mr. Sheen was appointed to a considerable place in the Cus-

toms ; the income of which, even after he was

superannuated, he continued to enjoy till he

died. Hester, the third sister, who married Mr. Knowles, was younger than Mr. Sheridan.

At this time, Quilca might be reckoned the rally-

ing place where Mr. Sheridan's generous hos- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 35

pitality collected all the branches of his scatter-

ed family ; and in the society of his relatives

and their children, he and Mrs. Sheridan enjoyed a happiness far superior to any they could

have derived from a more extended and osten-

tatious species of intercourse. Yet, even at

this time, there were not wanting persons who

accused Mr. Sheridan, most unjustly, of extra-

vagance ; and alleged, in support of the charge,

the elegance of his paternal residence of Quilca

in the county of Cavan, which was so far from

realizing Swift's often-quoted, but unfaithful

description, that it possessed every convenience

and comfort to be desired in a rural abode.

It was here that, surrounded by a party of

chosen friends, Mr. Sheridan on one occasion

was enabled to make an estimate between the

advantages of ancient and modern cookery.

Although the enthusiasm for eveiy thing that

was old had not at that time risen to the height

it has since done, several of his guests were of

opinion that their ancestors were the true pos-

sessors of the savoir vivre, and were very de-

D 2 36 M E 1\I O I R S OF siroiis that Mr. Sheridan should give tliem a specimen of the old Irish taste in hospitality.

They particularly enlarged on the merits of a

*' swilled mutton," a dish which they affirmed preserved the juices of the animal in much greater perfection than any mode of dressing in which its limbs are divided. Mr. Sheridan agreed to the proposal, and accordingly a day was fixed for this revival of primseval hospitality.

The floor of the eating-room was strewed with rushes, and the different dishes, cooked after the ancient manner recommended, were placed upon the table. The sight of the antique preparations pleased these lovers of simplicity. No- thing could be more agreeable than dining in a room strewed with fresh cut rushes, and the

** swilled mutton " was hailed as a noble relic of former times. It consisted of a sheep roasted whole, in the inside of which was insinuated a

lamb ; the lamb was again stuffed with a hare and rabbits. There was also a goose, the body of which was stuffed wath a duck, and other delicacies of a similar description. Having MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 37 been so loud in their commendations of these dishes, the guests tried to do honour to them on their appearance, but found them strangely repugnant to the taste of modern palates. Still they affected to relish them, praised the juiciness

of the mutton, and the high taste of the goose ; but through all their affected approbation, Mr.

Sheridan saw they were thoroughly disappointed. He however suffered them to regale on these ungrateful viands, having only given a private hint to one or two friends to reserve

themselves for something that was to succeed.

When every one was completely satisfied, and

more than satisfied, with the trial of their fore-

father's mode of living, these antique dishes

were taken away, and replaced by a second

course; consisting of venison, wild fowl, turbot

from Dublin, and every delicacy the most grate-

ful to a modern taste. Tlie tv\o or three

epicures who had received a hint to reserve

themselves till now, with great satisfaction began

their real dinner; while the rest, who had al-

ready dined heartily, could only lament their D 3 38 ivr E M O I 11 S O F mistake, which had left them no appetite for the luxurious fare that succeeded.

Mr. Sheridan's abode of Quilca, though much admired, was only a cottage. The roof of the principal sitting-room being coved, Lewis, the scene and portrait-painter, offered to convert this defect into a beauty; to which Mr. Sheridan consenting, the artist painted the cieling with classical designs, which formed a very elegant finish to his rural apartment. On this occasion,

Mr. Sheridan incurred no expense, as the idea solely originated in Lewis's desire to make some return for the many kindnesses he had received from his patron in his capacity of manager of the theatre.

When the ruin of Mr. Sheridan's affairs obliged him to give up Ireland, a part of Quilca was mortgaged to his brother-in-law Mr. Sheen, and the rest left in the hands of a distant relation, who Avas to have managed it for Mr.

Sheridan's benefit. This relation let the remainder of the lands and the cottage to a

farmer ; but long after the original proprietor MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 39 had been banished by adversity from his native land, and she, the faithful partner of his wan- derings, whose virtues had adorned, and whose talents had irradiated this comparatively se- questered scene, had breathed her last in a foreign country, the humble occupant of Quilca still preserved unaltered the coved and painted chamber, and many were the visitants whom curiosity attracted to the spot where admiration of departed genius was blended with recollections of domestic worth.

To return from this seeming digression to our narrative. The brothers of Mrs. Sheridan were necessarily separated from her by professional engagements, excepting the Rev. Walter Cham- berlaine. In his society she experienced great pleasure and improvement ; for although an oddity, like his father, he was possessed of considerable abilities. The following instances of his readiness and humour are worth preserving. When he was going to perform duty one Sunday at his parish church, some rude boys, struck with something singular and whim- D 4 —

40 ]M E M O I R S O F sical in his manner and appearance, pursued him with hooting and laugliter to the very doors.

Walter Chamberlaine marked the offenders, and being tliat day to preach as well as to read prayers, substituted in the place of the sermon he had previously intended to give, an extempore one, with the following text from the second chapter of the Second Book of Kings,

V. 23, *' And as he was going up by the vv^ay, there came forth little children out of the city and mocked him, and said unto liim. Go up,

thou bald head ; go up, thou bald head"

V. 24, " And he turned back and looked on them, and cursed them in the name of the

Lord. And there came forth two she bears out of the wood, and tare forty and two children of them."

As soon as Walter Chamberlaine had pronounced this terrible text, his eye sought out the trembling culprits, whom he soon discovered, vainly endeavouring to hide themselves behind others of the congregation. Then directing his looks fixedly on them, he began MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 41

a discourse upon the reverence due both to

age, and to the sacred character, and the terri-

ble punishments denounced by scripture against

those who failed to render it to either. Though

not an aged man, like the prophet Elisha, he

was a minister of God, and after emphatically

painting the enormity of turning into ridicule one who exercised the sacred function, he enlarged upon the sin of those who mocked their neighbour for any infirmity, misfortune, or personal defect whatever. This unpremeditated effusion produced the full impression intended

to be made ; and it was the opinion of many who remembered to have been present in the church, that it was not only one of the best sermons Mr. Chamberlaine had ever preached, but one of the best they had ever heard.

Another time, being to preach before a congregation in the country composed of none but the poorest and most illiterate classes, he found that, in a fit of absence of mind (not unusual with him), lie had brought, in the place of the discourse he intended to have pro- 42 M E M O I R S O F nounced, another written for the purpose of being delivered before a genteel audience in

Dublin. A pause ensued. What was to be done ? " Lord bless my soul !'* muttered Walter

Chamberlaine, " I have put the wrong sermon in my pocket!" Then, composing himself to address his hearers with becoming solemnity,

" I find, my brethren," he said, " I have brought with me, by mistake, a sermon utterly above your comprehensions— I therefore shall not deliver it, but though unprepared, shall endeavour, with the blessing of God, to give you something from myself that may be of benefit to you."

He accordingly chose a text, and pronounced another admirable extempore sermon ; as well suited to the wants and capacities of his ignorant audience, as the written one was ill- adapted to them. Walter Chamberlaine was a poet, and the following jeu (Tesprit affords a favourable specimen of his talent and fancy.

As it has more than once been printed without acknowledgment, and has even been attri- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 43 buted to the late Rt. Hon. R. B. Sheridan, I here give the first correct copy that has been pubhshed, with the name of the real author.

THE TRAVELLERS:

A TALE.

By the Reverend Walter Chambcrlaine.

A good repute, a virtuous name,

Philosophers set forth

As the unerring path to fame,

If fame consist in worth.

This jewel, rarely to be found,

Sets merit full in view :

A moral glory shines around

Whate'er the virtuous do.

The precious ointment, gently shed,

O'er mental ills prevails.

And where the fragrant medicine's spread,

It animates and heals.

Yet hard it is to use it right.

Though beautiful to view,

It shines distinguishingly bright —

How trant^itory too ! — — —

44 M E M O 1 R S O F

Like glass it glitters, soon 'tis crack'd,

Irreparably frail

All Moralists allow the fact,

So I apply my Tale.

When things inanimate could speak,

Fire once agreed with Water

A friendly jaunt one day to take, — But where 'tis no great matter.

It happen'd that the day before

Each left his different station,

They chose a third—worth twenty more

And this was— Reputation.

The three companions now reflect,

If chance should once divide 'em.

How each his letters might direct.

Or who would surest guide 'em.

Says Water, " Friends, you'll hear my name.

Though lost upon a mountain ;

Enquire at any murmuring stream,

Or seek me in a fountain.

" Where marshes stagnate, bogs extend.

Green reeds and turfy sods

Direct a path to meet your friend

A path the bulrush nods. —; — : ——

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 45

*' From deep cascades I sometimes pour,

Through meadows gently gUde

I drop a dew, descend a shower.

Or thunder in a tide."

" Your restless make," quoth Fire, " I knew,

Just like your parent Ocean

I like to rove as well as you,

My life consists in motion.

" But should I stray, you'll find me soon

In matches, flints, and tapers

And though my temper's brisk and boon,

I'm often in the vapours.

" From Smoke sure tidings you may get,

It can't subsist without me

Or find me, like some fond coquette,

With fifty sparks about me.

" In poets all my marks you see.

Since flash and smoke I'eveal me :

Suspect me always near Nat. Lee

Ev'n Blackmore can't conceal mc.

" In Milton's page I glow by art.

One flame intense and even

In Shakespeare's blaze, a sudden start,

Like lightning shot from heaven. ——

46 MEMOIRSOF

" In many more, a living ray,

Through various forms I shift

I'm gently lambent while I'm Gay,

But brightest when I'm &xmft.

'* In different shapes, too, am I seen,

Among the young and fair,

And as the virtues shine within,

You'll ever find me there.

" The best of slaves I'm call'd by men,

When held in proper durance ;

But if I once do mischief, — then

I'm heard of at th'Insurance!

" Through Nature's walks I take my flight

And kindle as I run —

Up from the tinder-box, I light

The chariot of the Sun !"

" Alas !" poor Reputation cried,

" How happy in each other:

Such numerous marks must sure ly guide

Each straggler to his brother.

'• 'Tis I alone must be undone.

Such ills has Fate assign'd me

If / be lost, 'tis ten to one.

You never more will find me." MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 47

The best imitations of " The Travellers*' is

" Reputation," an allegory, by Cunningham.

Yet upon a comparison of the two, the supe- riority of Mr. Chamberlaine's poem will be

apparent. 48 M E :\i o I 11 s OF

CHAPTER HI.

Birth ofMrs. Sheridan's Children. —Thomas.—Charles Francis. — Richard Brinsley, and Ahcia. — Second Theatrical Riot. — Contradiction of a passage in Mrs. Inchbald's Remarks upon the Tragedy of Mahomet. —Unpublished Anecdote of Digges—Second Anecdote of Digges Birth of Sack- ville Sheridan. - Anecdote of Lord Gcrmaine. Anecdote of the Duke of Dorset.

At this time the claims of a rising family were so numerous, as to demand all Mrs. She- ridan's care and attention.

Her maternal tenderness was destined to receive a severe shock in the loss of her eldest boy, who was born in 1747, and named Tho- mas, after his father. He died at three years old, in 1750, at an age in which parents already begin to discover the interesting signs of intelligence and sensibility in their offspring, which was particularly the case on this occasion.

In the rest of her children Mrs. Sheridan

was more fortunate ; Charles Francis, the second son, was so named after Charles Gardiner, MRS. FRANCES .SHKRIDAN. 49 the father of the first Lord Mountjoy, and his own mother, whose name was Frances.

He was born June 1750, the same year in which she lost her eldest boy.

Richard Brinsley,* who was also christened

Butler, after the Earl of Lanesborough, was born September 1751.

Her fourth child was a daughter, named

Alicia after the Honourable Alicia Caulfield, sister to Lord Charlemont. Alicia was born

January 1753.

A mind like Mrs. Sheridan's must have been peculiarly susceptible of maternal claims. In

" Sidney Biddulph," she may be here supposed to give a transcript of her own feelings.

" How delightful are the sensations, my dear

Cecilia, that I feel hourly springing in my

heart ! Surely the tenderness of a mother can

* In a work I shall often have occasion to notice, " Me- moirs of the Public and Private Life of the Right Honourable

Richard Brinsley Sheridan, by John Watkins, LL.D.," it is

said, page 157, that his first name was " after his uncle's;"

hut this is a mistake. His three names of Richard, Brinsley, and Butler, were given by Lord Lanesborough. E 50 M E 1\I O I R S O F

never be sufficiently repaid— I never see my

dear little girl, but I think such were the

tender sentiments, the sweet anxieties, that my

honoured and beloved mother felt when her

Sidney was such a brat as this! Then I say,

surely I have a right to all the duty, all the

filial love, that this creature can shew me in

return for my fondness. . . .

" How delightful will be the task of ex-

panding and forming the minds of these che- " rubs!

With such feelings, the birth of a child of

her own sex, over whose education she might

more particularly preside, must have been an

additional source of satisfaction to Mrs. Sheri-

dan : and accordingly we find that, engrossed

by her pleasing duties, she confined herself to

a very small and select circle of her own and

her husband's friends. Mr. Sheridan's profes-

sion, however, necessarily threw him into a

more widely extended sphere, and led him into

gay connexions, which, however flattering to

his merit, in the end proved fatal to his in-

terests. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 51

Having already experienced how miicli a manager may be opposed and thwarted in the discharge of his duty, by the insolence of individuals, and the malevolence of party, Mr.

Sheridan had frequently, since the riot of 1746, consulted with his friends upon the expediency of establishing a Theatrical Club ; to consist of persons qualified to judge of the merit of such pieces as should be presented to their notice, and also possessed of influence sufficient to support the manager against malicious and unmerited attacks. This was the origin of the too-celebrated " Beef-Steak Club." An institution authorized by ancient custom in every theatre, but generally consisting of a meeting of actors and writers for the stage, to which were occasionally added Amateurs, who might be considered in the light of honorary members.

But, under Mr. Sheridan's management, the

'* " Beef-Steak Club included nearly all that the metropolis of Dublin could boast of talent, rank, and fashion. Still it was begun with no ;

52 M E M O I R S O F

party intention on the side of the manager,

although afterwards converted into a most fatal

engine of party against himself

In the year 1753, the club consisted of about

sixty noblemen and gentlemen, chiefly mem-

bers of parliament, friends of Mr. Sheridan,

and admirers of the Drama. Perhaps no pe-

riod ever witnessed an assemblage so calculated,

by spirit, wit, and talent, to decide upon the

merits of works of genius. There seldom were

more than thirty at the same time at these

meetings, which took place at the Theatre

and the celebrated Margaret Woffington, who

then sparkled the brightest star in the Dublin theatrical hemisphere, was (with ill-fated gal- lantry) elected president of this committee of taste.

To this flattering distinction it must be allowed she was entitled, on many accounts Be-

sides her unrivalled popularity as an actress,

she possessed, we are told,* a good understanding, which was much improved by company

* Davies's Life of Garrick. ;

MRS. FRANCES SPIERIDAN. 56 and books. She had a most attractive sprightliness in her manners, and considerable vivacity

and humour ; she was affable, good-natured, and charitable. Her company was sought after by men of the first rank and distinction persons of the gravest character, and most eminent for learning, were proud of her acquaintance, and charmed with her conversation. Notwithstanding all these advantages, however, her moral character was such as to exclude lier society from the of her own sex ; and she comforted herself for their just disdain by the very unfounded remark, *' that the conversation of women consisted of nothing but silks and scandal."

Mr. Sheridan found it impossible, therefore,

to introduce her to his wife : a compliment that would have been the more gratifying, as

Mrs. Sheridan kept up no intercourse whatever with any of the other performers. It was solely from this consideration, and the desire, at the same time, to pay some tribute to genius, by which he had so materially benefitted as a

i: S ;

54 M E M () I R S O F

manager, that lie was induced to shew Mrs.

Woffington a distinction which excited the jea-

lousy of the other performers.

The fame of these theatrical parties increased the ill-humour of the uninitiatedy who were not

invited to partake of them ; and as the noble-

men and gentlemen that composed them were chiefly supporters of Government, Mr. Sheridan was most falsely and injuriously supposed to take a more active part in the politics of the

day, than was becoming in an individual whose best interests were inseparably connected with

the favour of the public. It is well known that

the revival of the tragedy of Mahomet, was^ the

occasion of the explosion of those discontents

which had so long been gathering ; and that

the following was the passage marked out for

tumultuous applause.

" If, ye powers divine !

Ye mark the movements of this nether world,

And bring tliem to account, crush, crush those vipers

Who, singled out by the community

To guard their rights, shall, for a grasp of ore

Or paltry office, sell them to the foe ! —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 55

This passage, as applied by the anti-courtiers to the ministers then in power, was honoured ;" with the singular distinction of an " encore and the fine scenes between Zaphna and Pal- mira, which are usually the most admired in the play, were this night suffered to pass

unnoticed ; while all the applause was directed towards the character of'Alcanor, the personage who recites the speech above quoted. The audience being thus obviously influenced, by the spirit of party, Mr. Sheridan was certainly guilty of an oversight in giving out the

play for a second representation : but he thought to obviate the inconveniences attached to such a compliance by remonstrating—or, in the simple but expressive phrase of the Historian of the Theatre, " Reading a Lecture" to the company on the duties of an actor, previous to the ensuing night's performance. In this

Green-room Lecture he says :

" I lay it down as a maxim, that the business of an actor is to divest himself, as much as possible, of his private sentiments, and to E 4 oC) M i: M O I R S () F enter, with all the spirit he is master of, into

tile character he represents ; and this is an indisputable claim which the public, in general, have upon iiim.

" But if an actor, in order to please part of that public, should by any unusual empJtasiSy gesture, or significant loo/i, mark out a passage in his part (which at another juncture he would pass by lightly) as a party-stroke—he in that instance steps out of his feigned character into

his natural one ; than which nothing can be more insolent to the audience, or more calculated to bring disapprobation and disgrace not only on himself, but upon all his brethren."

In this discourse, which certainly contains very valuable hints in addition to Hamlet's

Advice to the Players, the attentive observer of character will remark much of Mr. Sheri- dan's spirit of order and system, and the desire with which he was actuated on all occasions, of impressing a sense of moral responsibility, and of their duties in the relation in which ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 57 they stood to the pubKc, upon the community of which he was the head. Unfortunately, his good intentions were not seconded on this occasion.

Mr. Digges, the actor who played Alcanor, and who in the representation of that part had complied with the wishes of the audience, in the repetition of the obnoxious speech, conceived himself reflected upon : and, applying the whole of the lecture to himself, desired to know what were the Manager's directions, in case of the repetition of a similar demand on the part of the audience. Mr. Sheridan's reply was, that " he should give him no directions : he must use his own discretion." Digges then said, " Sir, if I should comply with the demand of the audience, and repeat the speech as I did before, am I to incur your censure for so doing ?" The Manager replied, " Not at all

I leave you to use your own discretion." No- thing could be more moderate or conciliatory than this answer, the meaning of wliich was apparent. 58 M E M O I R S O F

Mr. Sheridan, as a friend and respectful well- wisher to Government, by which every person in public life is supported, could not authorize the repetition of a particular passage in a play after it had been turned by the malignant in- terpretations of individuals into a direct attack upon that Government, which had always distinguished his honourable exertions by its countenance and favour. At the same time, as Mr. Sheridan was no courtier, he assumed it as an incontrovertible position, that, should the audience take the responsibility into their own hands, by insisting on the repetition of the favourite speech, the actor, as the servant of the public, was bound to obey them ; and the manager disclaimed any idea of fettering his power by imposing further restrictions upon him.*

* In Mrs. Inchbald's " Remarks" upon the Tragedy of

" Mahomet," there is quite a false account given of this transaction.

" On its first representation on the Dublin Stage" (it was

7iot the Jirst, it was a revival :) " a few sentences in the part

of MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 59

Unfortunately, a difference of some standing had grown up between Mr. Digges and the

of Alcanor had such accidental allusion to some great men, or man, then in power in that nation,'' (Query : the nation of

Dublin) " that the audience, enraptured upon the utterance, and willing to show their own implication, encored those lines with such unanimous vehemence, that the performer

thought it his duty to repeat them, in compliance with their

desire. The late Mr. Sheridan (father of the author of the

School for Scandal) was at that time manager of the Theatre

of Dublin, in which adventure all his property, all his hopes,

were embarked ; yet he boldly censured the actor who had

yielded to the command of the audience, and forbade a

repetition of any speech in the part of Alcanor, however

loudly it might be called for on the following night. Mr.

Sheridan knew the predicament in which he was placed ; he

knew the fury of an exasperated audience in Ireland : he

knew their power over all his possessions—yet, firm in his

politics, he beheld, on the next evening, his theatre totally

demolished, and his own life in danger, without revoking the

peremptory orders he had issued."

This is a very spirited climax, and a highly-wrought picture

of a political martyr, or rather madman ; for such Mr. She-

ridan would assuredly have been, with a wife and young

family, to have risked his all in a cause in which he had no

concern. But, unfortunately, the eulogium, if it be meant

for ()U M E M O 1 R S O F

manager ; which, as it has not been noticed in

any preceding relation of this transaction, is

here given exactly as it occurred.

It is the custom at all theatres that a person

appointed for that purpose should summon the

performers, according as they are wanted, upon

the stage. This summons Digges had, on one

occasion, disregarded, to the great annoyance

of the other actors, and disappointment of the

audience. Upon Mr. Sheridan's remonstrating

with him upon the inconvenience he had thus

occasioned, by not being drest for his part, and

by keeping the audience a considerable time

waiting, Digges replied : " that it was in con-

sequence of his not having received the usual

summons." To this Mr. Sheridan answered,

" Excuse me, Mr. Digges, the man assured me

for such, was totally undeserved by his conduct, which was

regulated by the dictates of moderation and prudence.

There have been published some very good " Remarks" by Cooke, the actor, " on Mrs. Inchbald's Remarks ;" and

certainly, notwithstanding that lady's acknowledged genius,

her observations on the drama are often singularly crude,

superficial, and dogmatical. —:

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDANT. 6l

that he had repeatedly given you notice you

were wanted on the stage." Digges, who,

hke Mr. Sheridan, was a gentleman botli by

birth and education, and who was of a haughty

and violent temper, answered with some heat

" Would you believe the assertion of such a

fellow as that in preference to mine ?" To

this Mr. Sheridan unguardedly replied, " He

never gave me reason to disbelieve him ; that

man never told me a lie.'*

This expression, by which the manager only

meant to infer that a person of integrity, how-

ever low his station, was not, on that ac-

count, to be considered as unworthy of credit,

rankled in the mind of Digges ; and some

nights afterwards Mrs. Ryder (wife to the manager of that name, but at that time a very young person) overheard Digges talking over the affront he had received with Mrs. Ward, an actress, in the green-room. On this occasion he made use of the remarkable expression :

" I shall find an opportimity to be revenged !

62 MEMOIRSOF on Sheridan for doubting my word." How fatally he succeeded will appear in the sequel

Actuated by these unfriendly feelings towards Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Digges on the second night of the performance (March 2, 17'54), instead of making use of the discretionary power entrusted to him by the manager, hinted, on the reiteration of the command for this party speech, that he had Mr. Sheridan's positive orders not to indulge the public with it. The most violent outcries for the manager ensued.

Mr. Sheridan did not judge it prudent to com-

ply with their summons ; and, being strongly impressed with the idea that personal mischief was intended to himself, he got into a chair, and returned to his own house, whither he was guarded by his friends to the door.

The news of the manager's departure only rendered the rioters more furious. They insisted on his return ; but in consideration of his living at some distance, declared they would wait patiently one hour. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. OO

This was certainly the critical period on which Mr. Sheridan's fortunes hung : and there is little doubt, from the inclination thus betrayed for a compromise, that, had he presented himself within the course of that eventful hour, all might yet have been well. At the same time, those who feel inclined to blame the line of conduct he pursued on this occasion, must remember that his life had already been threatened, both in public and private, by these very

persons ; so that his mistrust of them, however it may be lamented, cannot be thought surprising. The hour elapsed, and the rioters renewed their call. Still Mr. Sheridan did not appear. Two of the principal leaders then rose up from the middle of the pit: this was the concerted signal. A young man in the pit stood up and cried out, '* God bless His Ma-

!'* jesty King George with three huzzas ; and this sound, in general the harbinger of peace and joy, was made, on this occasion, the watch- word for one of the most disgraceful scenes ever recorded in the annals of tlie Drama. At 64 ]vr E M O 1 R S O F the end of the thu'd huzza, the work of de-

struction began. The benches were torn up ; the chandeliers, which were very vahiable,

broken to pieces ; and the audience part of the house destroyed in five minutes. After this

outrage, some moved to fire the house, others to attack the wardrobe. A party leaped upon

the stage, and witli their swords and other in-

struments slashed the curtain, which was finely

painted, and cost a great sum of money, and

broke and cut to pieces all the scenes within

their reach. Some attempts were made to at-

tack the wardrobe : but finchng that place well

defended, they retired ; and in so doing, a

party of rioters who went oif through the box-

room, dragged the grate full of burning coals

into the middle of the room, and then laid

some of the broken doors of the boxes upon

it J but, notwithstanding these preparations,

which could hardly have been expected to fail

of their eflfect, the intended mischief was pre-

vented by a timely discovery, and the theatre

was not set on fire. But the loss Mr. Sheridan MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 65 sustained in his property was such as he was never afterwards able to retrieve, and produced a complete change in the aspect of his affairs.

Such was the conclusion of his meritorious en-

deavours to deserve the favour of the public !

Still, all the well-disposed part of that pubHc sympathized in his misfortune as in a general calamity ; and his daughter has often heard his surviving contemporaries, particularly those ladies who remembered the advantageous effect his character and conduct produced on the regulation of the theatre, lament the disorder and anarchy that almost immediately ensued there, and at the same time expatiate on the period of his undisputed influence, as the golden era of the Irish Drama.*

* It has been observed, that no enmities are stronger than

those contracted within the walls of a theatre ; and of t/tal the subsequent conduct of Mr. Digges affords sufficient proof. Digges, according to the accounts of those times, possessed a commanding figure, an impressive countenance, and a noble deportment; but the effect of all these advantages was lessened by a harsh, inharmonious voice, that

sufficiently 66 . MEMOIRSOF

The peril to which Mr. Sheridan was exposed, during the night of the riot at the theatre, was

sufficiently announced the very unpleasant temper for which he was remarkable.

His resentment against Mr. Sheridan, for the incautious expression he had unguardedly used, after appearing to sleep for a period of thirty years, shewed itself again on the following occasion. In the year 1784, in Dublin,

Digges chose for his own benefit once more to revive the

Tragedy of Mahomet : and, in order to give more attraction to the entertainment of the night, caused it to be announced in the bills as " the Play that had been the ruin of Mr. Sheridayi in 1754."

Such a singular proceeding did not fail to excite the public curiosity, and Digges appeared in his favourite character of Alcanor, in hopes to renew in part his former triumph.

One of Mr. Sheridan's daughters was in her private -box at the Theatre, and witnessed the manner in which Digges

(then an old man) gave the memorable imprecation -

" Crush, crush those vipers," &c.

It was with all the energy of his youthful feelings, and the poignancy of remembered and unextinguishable hatred. But

when he paused, to receive the rapturous applause, that had formerly marked the delivery of this famous party speech,

a dead MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. • 67 the severest trial that, since her marriage, Mrs.

Sheridan had to endure ; and it was increased by the ill-judged precipitancy of a servant, wlio, running home from the theatre in an early stage of the disturbance, alarmed her with an exaggerated account that his master was in the most imminent danger of his life, and the theatre actually in ffames. The agony of mind she suffered, during the moment of suspense tliat intervened between this alarming statement and the safe return of her husband, was productive of the most afflicting consequences.

At this eventful period Mrs. Sheridan was near her fifth confinement ; and the sufferings she endured had such an effect upon the health of the infant, that it expired three months after its birth in convulsions. Yet the behaviour of

Mrs. Sheridan, on this trying occasion, is per-

haps as perfect an example of unaffected kind-

ness and gentleness of mind as ever was exhi-

F 2

a dead silence prevailed, and not a hand moved : so decided

was the disapprobation of the public expressed at this at-

tempt to revive forgotten animosities ! 68 M E M O I R S O F bited by a woman. Notwithstanding the cruel shock both her health and hopes had received by the servant's unguarded rashness, she neither at the time, nor afterwards, ever mentioned the circumstance to his master.

The child, born under such unfortunate auspices, was christened Sackville, after his Grace the Duke of Dorset, then Lord Lieutenant, who did Mr. Sheridan the honour to stand godfather.

This kindness of the Duke, as well as many others shewn by that nobleman to Mr. Sheri- dan, proceeded solely from the esteem in which he held his private character, and the value that

he set on his society ; yet, from the violent height to which party spirit had risen, certain it is that the distinction with which he v/as always received by the Lord Lieutenant was in a great ^measure the cause of the clamour raised against Mr. Sheridan.

Having the honour to be thus personally considered by the Viceroy, Mr. Sheridan had been assiduous in paying his duty at the castle :

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 69

He was also frequently at the Duke's private dinners and parties. The same friendship was extended to him for some years after this

period ; and in those domestic sorrows, from which the highest lot in human life is not exempted, Mr. Sheridan was the confidential depository of the sufferings then endured by a faithful subject and an affectionate father.*

F S

* Mr. Cumberland has given some interesting anecdotes of Lord George Sackville, afterwards Lord Viscount Ger- maine, during his residence near Tunbridge, to which I may be permitted to add the following

Some time after the disastrous affair of Minden had con- signed that amiable nobleman to private life, and the name of Lord George Sackville was in some degree forgotten in the new title of Lord Germaine, a country clergyman, wholly unacquainted with his Lordship, applied for a living in his

gift : with which request Lord Germaine, in consequence of the applicant's good character, thought proper to comply.

The first time his Lordship came down to the country, the

clergyman waited on him to return thanks to his patron. In

the course of conversation. Lord Germaine chanced to ask

him " if he was a sportsman ?" The clergyman, little

acquainted with the changes in the Court Calendar, and

totally 70 M E ]M O I R S O F

But though thus distinguished by the Duke of Dorset in private, Mr. Sheridan, as a pubhc character, had always preserved that prudent medium which alone became a man wholly unconnected with politics. Mr. Boswell is, therefore, wholly unfounded in the assertion,

(vol. i. p> 369-70) that the pension which was granted several years afterwards to Mr. Sheri- dan, and respecting which Johnson expressed himself so ungraciously, was given to him " as a sufferer in the cause of Government when he was manager of the Theatre Royal in Ireland, where parties ran high in 1753." The fact was quite otherwise — and the anecdote tells equally to the honour of Mr. Sheridan, and of the

totally ignorant of his patron's former title, answered, " Not

I, indeed, my Lord ! Lord George Sackville does not hate the smell of gunpowder more than I do." When he took leave, a person who was present, and withdrew at the same time with him, informed the stranger of the confusion he had made. Upon which the simple man insisted on returning to apologize for his blunder, and begged his Lordship would impute it to the true cause — his utter ignorance of the title he had formerly borne. MRS, FRANCES SHERIDAN. 71 friendly nobleman who so generously stepped forward to his assistance, in the hour of his

distress.

The Duke of Dorset on learning Mr. She- ridan's theatrical misfortune, made him an offer, in the handsomest terms, of a pension of three hundred pounds a year, as some compensation for the losses he had sustained on that occasion. This offer Mr. Sheridan, however,

respectfully declined : alleging that such a favour from Government would confirm all the unjust reports to his disadvantage, and cut him off from all future hopes of the patronage of

the public ; whereas if he persisted in refusing-

all remuneration, it was his trust and belief that his conduct would soon be viewed in a proper light, and that it would yet be in his power, by means of the theatre, to raise a fortune for his family.

The pension of two hundred a year, which was granted him above eight years afterwards, was solely on the ground of iiis literary merits.

F 4 72 M E M O I R S O F

Perceiving, however, that tlie current of popular prejudice ran so strongly against him, he fixed on the only course that prudence

dictated : to give up the management, and let the theatre for a teim of two years. He then embarked for England, where he knew his talents would ensure him the most favourable reception, leaving Mrs. Sheridan to settle affairs at home, and remain with her children till he could make the desired arrangements for her rejoining him. —

MRS, FRANX'ES SHERIDAN. J3

CHAPTER IV.

Mrs. Sheridan's removal to England.—Return in 1766. Original Anecdotes of Spranger Barry.—Mr, SamuelWhyte of Grafton Street. — Examination of a passage in Dr. Wat- kins's " Memoirs." relative to the late Right Hon. R. B. Sheridan.—Final Removal to England in 1738. —Mrs. She- ridan's Circle of English Friends.—Samuel Richardson. Birth of Mrs. Sheridan's youngest daughter Elizabeth. Miss Pennington.— Anecdotes.—Mrs. Scott.—Sarah Field- ing. —Garrick Murphy.- Original Anecdote of Mrs. Barry.— History of the Tragedy of The Earl of Essex.

From the period of her marriage up to the present time, we have contemplated this admirable woman in the enjoyment of all the

comforts and elegancies of life, easy in her

circumstances, and blest in her family.

She was now called on to relinquish many

of these advantages ; but in her strong attach-

ment to her husband, found a compensation for

every sacrifice that could be required of her.

This attachment, the singular rise of which

lias !)een particularly related, formed the ;

74 M E BI O I R S O F

governing principle of every period of Mrs.

Sheridan's existence. Her husband was, with

her, the object of a love and veneration to

which all other objects were made subservient.

He was the unbiassed choice of her youth

and, by a concurrence of circumstances fortu-

nate but rare, that choice was confirmed by

time, and constituted the happiness of her

whole future life.

When Mr. Sheridan was able to send for her

to England, she rejoined him there ; leaving

her childi'en (except Charles Francis, who never

went from his parents) under the care of kind

and attentive sisters, with whom their time was

spent, either at Quilca, or at their father's

house in Dublin.

But towards the close of the year 1756

prospects began to clear.

The Dublin public became sensible of the impropriety of their behaviour to Mr. Sheridan;

and these sentiments being made known to him

through the medium of his correspondents, he

accepted the favourable omen, and, September MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 7^

1766, resumed the management of theatrical

affairs.

It being thought necessary to address the

audience witli a few words of apology and

explanation, before he renewed the representation of any of his favourite characters, Mr.

Sheridan complied with this requisition : " and never," (says the theatrical historian) " never in the opinion of the best judges, did any man within their observation appear before the public with such address, or speak to the passions with such propriety. Tears gushed ;" from the eyes of several of his male auditors and at the recollection of his severe losses and of his unmerited sufferings, the hearts of his precipitate but generous countrymen beat responsive in one universal flow of sympathy.

The most unmingled plaudits welcomed the exile back to the scene he had dignified and adorned before ; and these satisfactory and flattering testimonies of regard were continued in his subsequent appearance in the character of Hamlet, and during his performance of all 76 MEMOIRSOF the principal characters he was accustomed to represent. *

Notwithstanding this brilHant success, Mr.

Sheridan, having received two lessons on the in- stability of public favour, began to turn his

thoughts seriously to literature : a resource for which his education and talents eminently qualified him. From this time, althougli he did not quit the stage, he may be considered in the additional character of a man of letters. Under this point of view, the number and importance of the works he executed, and the solid benefit of which they were productive to his family and the public, are the best evidences of the strength and versatility of his mind, and prove how much can be accomplished by a single and

* Such was the tumultuous joy expressed by his countrymen on Mr. Sheridan's return, that the historian of the theatre, in reviewing the transaction, makes use of the curious comparison of " a quarrel between lovers."

" Mr. Sheridan's abilities as an actor (he continues) must be fuU}'^ proved by the success that attended his twelve years' performances in that improved theatre, of which he Avas the constant and chief support." MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 77 unassisted individual, who carries to his task a spirit of unwearied activity, and a determina- tion to improve every passing hour.

While these double duties engaged her husband's thoughts and time, that of Mrs. Sheridan was chiefly spent in a small retreat at Glas- nevin, where she could enjoy with her children the advantage of breathing a purer air than in

Dublin, and devote herself unremittingly to their improvement.

The winter of I757 was to Mr. Sheridan as

successful as the preceding one ; but afterwards, the erection of the new theatre in Crow-street, under the auspices of Spranger Barry, and the loss of some of Mr. Sheridan's best performers, rendered it no longer desirable for him to continue in the management. Fashion, which had formerly so powerfully supported Mr. Sheridan, had now gone over to the side of Barry.

To the finest figure and most interesting countenance, this performer united tJie magic of that fascinating voice, which obtained for —

78 M E M O I R S O F him the name of " the silver-toned Barry."

In parts of tenderness and pathos —in such characters as Jaffier, Mark Antony, or Varanes

he was unrivalled : and that latter character in which he inspired such a powerful interest, has not been able since his time to maintain its place on the stage. The same qualities fol-

lowed him into private life. Destitute of prin-

ciple, but gifted with such powers of pleasing,

Spranger Barry was a man of whom it might

be said, that, " whomsoever he chose he could

subdue, and he chose to subdue every one."

When the affairs of his theatre took an unfa-

vourable turn, and, unlike Mr. Sheridan, he

left every department unpaid and unsatisfied,

the angry tradesmen used to besiege his door,

vowing that though they had been frequently

paid off with words, this time they would not

depart without their money. Mr. Barry would

then desire to see them. A single claimant w^as

admitted at a time. After a conference of

some duration, he returned with a pleased —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 79 and satisfied countenance to the anxious and expectant crowd of creditors below. Judging by the reception their companion met what was Ukely to be their own chance, he was eagerly interrogated by the gaping crowd.

" Well, you have seen Mr. Barry ?"— « Yes."

~" You have got your money?" — " No.'*

— " A part of it?"— " Not one shilling.

But Mr. Barry spoke to me so kindly seemed so distrest to keep me waiting promised me so faithfully that the next time

I called the money should be forthcoming that he has, I know not how, got the better of my anger, and I could not find it in my heart to press a gentleman any further."

If Barry was so successful in exercising his powers of persuasion on the flinty hearts of angry creditors, with the gentler sex he was, of

course, still more irresistible ; and though we have such high authority as the Letters of the celebrated Mrs. Montagu, that " notwithstanding Barry's sentimental blue eyes, it always

appeared to her that he looked like a fool ;" it 80 M E M O I R S O F was far from being the most usual impression that he made.*

* Towards the close of the year 1758, and the beginning of

1759, Barry, after Mr. Sheridan's departure, hit upon the fol-

lowing expedient to oppose the benefits of the other house.

The same night on which there was to be the benefit of a

performer at the opposite house, Barry used to apply to some

female leader of the Ton, and request her to bespeak a play,

making an interest for all parts of the house, but more par-

ticularly with her tradesmen, for the pit and gallery. In

these negociations, his fine person and insinuating manners

generally rendered him successful.

On one of these occasions, the great lady of the night had,

as was usual, sent out pit and gallery tickets to all her

tradespeople, with threatenings of the loss of her custom if

they did not dispose of them. On arriving early in the box-

room to receive her company, great was her mortification to

be informed that her orders had been very ill obeyed, and

that it was likely to prove but a thin house. The time

approached for the drawing up of the curtain, and at the

sight of a thin pit and gallery, the lady was so much affected,

that she was ready to faint. Smelling-bottles and other

restoratives were applied, and as soon as her Ladyship reco-

vered the power of speech, she cried out " that she was

ruined and undone ; that she should 'never be able to look

dear Mr. Barry in the face again, after such a shocking dis-

appointment.'' At —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 81

To return to Mrs. Sheridan. Neither the disappointment of her own and her husband's hopes, nor the anxieties with which her future

At these repeated lamentations, the box-keeper advanced

and said : " I beg your Ladyship will not be so disheartened ; indeed, your Ladyship's house will mend, your Ladyship's galleries will certainly mend before the play begins."

" !" " Nonsense cried the lady ; I tell you I am undone ruined and undone, that's all ! But I'll be revenged ! I am resolved I'll pay off—no ; I mean I'll turn off all my saucy tradesmen to-morrow morning."

Barry was then in his prime ; being scarcely turned of forty. As a contrast to the preceding anecdote, view him as he was seen in London by Mrs. H. Lefanu, in 1775, broken down by infirmity more than by years, for repeated and severe attacks of rheumatism had deprived his once fine and lofty figure of all its elasticity and grace. A chair, placed at the side scene, vias in readiness to receive the exhausted actor the moment he went off the stage, and the part he happened to perform that night was in unison with the ruin Time had effected, for it was that of " Lear."

In the last scene of the fifth act, after snatching a sword from the officer, and striking down the two ruffians who had attempted to seize upon Cordelia, the King says to

one of his kin'ghts who is relating the deed to Edgar : G " Did 82 MEMOIRSOF lot was environed, could damp the ardour of her benevolence, or the eagerness with which her kind heart embraced every opportunity of obliging and benefiting others.

At this time Mr. Samuel Whyte, of Grafton

Street (so often mentioned in the " Memoirs of the Rt. Hon. R. B. Sheridan"), was opening his grammar-school, and Mrs. Sheridan exerted herself in every way to promote his interest.

This gentleman, who was eight years younger than Mrs. Sheridan, had always been treated by her with a kindness which he was far from

" Did I not, fellow?

I've seen the day, with my good biting falchion

I could have made them skip ; / am old notv.

And these vile crosses spoil me ; out of breath,

!" Fie, oh ! quite out of breath, and spent

As the aged and infirm actor uttered the words, " 7 om old nolo," some one among the spectators, equally devoid of good taste and good feeling, began a laugh, in which he was joined by the unthinking part of the audience.

Mr. Sheridan was present with his daughter in the boxes, and could not refrain from an almost audible expression of generous indignation. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 8S

experiencing from her sister, Mrs. Fish, or any other member of the family. In order to promote the success of the undertaking, Mrs. She- ridan sent her own three children (the eldest not seven), and prevailed on her husband's sisters, Mrs. Sheen, Mrs. Knowles, and also her friend Mrs. Cunningham, whom I have formerly mentioned, and others, to send theirs.

Thus favoured, young Whyte had a handsome

show of pupils on first opening his school : but the children of Mr. Sheridan were soon obliged to be withdrawn, on account of the change in their arrangements, which caused their removal to England. On this occasion, Charles Francis

accompanied his parents ; and it not being possible, from the situation of Mr. Sheridan's affairs at that time, to take all the children,

Richard Brinsley and Alicia were left with their nurse, under the superinten dance of a relation

(William Sheridan), at Quilca. After a time it was thought advisable to remove (iiem to Dub- hn, where they lived in their father's house,

under the care of tlieir aunt Mrs. Knowles, G 2 84 M E M O 1 R S O F who with her husband resided there. They went as day-scholars to Mr. Whyte's; and afterwards, on account of the inconvenient distance between Mr. Sheridan*s house and Whyte's,

became boarders.*

* Thus it appears they were not left " in the care of

Mr. Whyte." — Memoirs of the PubHc and Private Life of

the Right Honourable Richard Brinsley Sheridan, vol. i,

p. 103.

As this gentleman is quoted in the preface to Dr. Watkins's

" Memoirs," as the sole authority by " whose suggestion,

and by virtue of whose communications the history of Mr.

Sheridan and his family was originally projected," it is fair

to state the relationship in which he stood with regard to

them, and also the opportunities he had of knowledge with

respect to the late Richard Brinsley Sheridan.

The late Mr. Wliyte's father was Solomon ^\^lyte, uncle

to Mrs. Sheridan ; and from thence Whyte had certainly a

right to expect, and even solicit, but not to demand the kind-

ness she invariably shewed him : for had he possessed any

legal title to the name, the estates of Solomon Whyte could

not have gone, as they did, to Mr. Richard Chamberlaine,

Mrs. Sheridan's elder brother.

Mr. Whyte, who was left but slenderly provided for,

went to Dublin to adopt some plan for liis future support.

How warmly his kind friend exerted herself for him on this

occasion? —

MRS. FRANCES SIIERIDAX, 85

On the removal of Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan to

London in 1758, they settled in Henrietta

occasion, has been acknowledged by his family, where it is said

" He still bore in mind the obligations he owed to Mrs

Sheridan, ivho ivas the friend and parent of his youth." —

Whyte's Miscellanies.

By the advice and with the assistance of Mr. Sheridan,

Mr. Whyte opened a school, where teaching English gram- matically was the principal object.

About a year and a half after their removal to England,

Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan sent for their children ; and from that period Mr. Whyte never had any intercourse with

Richard Brinsley Sheridan, who was at the time of leaving his school little more than seven years of age.

In page 158 of the Memoirs, it is said, " When Mrs.

Sheridan committed her sons to the care of her cousin, she recommended to him the exercise of patience in his arduous

profession ; and observed, that she had brought him

subjects for the trial of that virtue : " for these boys," continued she, " will be your tutors in this respect. I have been their only instructor, and they have sufficiently exercised mine : for tivo such impenetrable dunces I never met with."

Now " these boys," that were to exercise the patience of

Mr. Samuel Whyte, " her cousin," were Richard Brinsley G 3 and : —

86 :\i E M O I R S O F

Street, Covent Garden : where Mrs. Sheridan's agreeable qualities and conversation soon drew around her an ingenious and distinguished circle of friends, among whom might be reckoned Dr. Young, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Whately, General

Frazer, Mr. Archibald Frazer, Mr. Wedder- burne, afterwards Lord Loughborough, Lord

Shelburne, Mrs. Cholmondeley, Mrs. Peckhard, and Samuel Richardson. With Richardson, to whom she had been first introduced in Hunting- donshire, Mrs, Sheridan had frequent opportunities of conversing, both at her own house and at Parson's Green : and it was in consequence

and Alicia, afterwards Mrs. Lefanu, of Dublin : for Charles

Francis, as we have already seen, accompanied his parents whithersoever they went. It is unlucky that this single fact overthi'ows the whole story, and renders unnecessary the concluding inference

" At this time the subject of these memoirs was in his seventh year. And though the remark of the mother tvas not confirmed by subsequent evidence of an incapacity for learning, the story is at least a proof of constitutional indolence."

Memoirs of the Public and Private Life of the Right Honour- able R. B. Sheridan, by Dr. Watkins. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 87 of the admiration he expressed upon the perusal of her manuscript novel, Eugenia and Ade- laide, that she was first encouraged to try her powers in a work of higher importance and greater length.

While fortune smiled, Mrs. Sheridan had felt no inclination to court the favour of the public as a writer, and cheerfully sacrificed the gratification of vanity, which she might have obtained as the possessor of distinguished talents, to the duties and avocations to which, as a wife and a mother, she was more particularly called to attend. But on a reverse of circumstances, she could not but have felt pleasure on finding the riches and resources of her mind readily acknowledged and justly appreciated by Mr.

Richardson, who at that time deservedly stood at the head of that species of literature he may be said to have almost created.

All her husband's friends Mrs. Sheridan welcomed with sincerity to her plain table, and, not having a particle of vanity or false pride in her

G 4 88 M E M O I R S O F disposition, cheerfully accommodated herself to the alteration in her husband's circumstances, even to the personal superintendance of every

minutiae of housewifery : and to those who deem the cultivation of literature incompatible with the duties more exclusively appropriated to the female sex, it may not be uninstructive to remark, that the authoress of some of the most admired productions of her time, was also acknowledged to excel in every branch of domestic economy.

While residing in Henrietta Street, Covent

Garden, Mrs. Sheridan gave birth to a daughter, the last of her children, and the only one of them born in England. This daughter was baptized by the names of Anne Elizabeth. The former name was given in compliment to Anne, daughter of Samuel Richardson, afterwards married to Mr. Ditcher, surgeon of Bath. The

Rev. Dr. Markham, afterwards Archbishop of

York, stood godfather to this child of Mrs. She- ridan's. At the period of its birth, Mrs. She- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 89 ridan had, with her, Miss Pennington, a young lady who had conceived for her, some time before, a strong and lasting attachment. She was the daugher of Lady Pennington, author of a volume of letters on the subject

of Education ; but was at this time her own mistress, and possessed of a considerable fortune. The introduction, which first took place in the country, was followed up by a lively and mutual tenderness, which at first proved to

Mrs. Sheridan a source of exquisite pleasure, and afterwards of unavailing regret.

The female heart, when devoted to conjugal affection, is sometimes observed to be compara-

tively cold to other claims : but Mrs. Sheridan formed an exception to this remark, and possessed a warmth and kindliness of manner, particularly calculated for inspiring and requiting friendship.*

* With what energy does she express this sentiment in the following passage of " Sidney Biddulph !"

" I have regretted nothing so much in my absence from

Arnold Abbey as the being cut off from the hope of seeing my 90 M E M O I R S O F

When Mrs. Sheridan settled in London, Miss

Pennington followed her thither, and intro-

duced herself in a manner that precluded all

denial. She said, " I am come to take up my abode with you, for I find it impossible to live without you. You may shut your doors against

me, but otherwise you will find it impossible to get rid of me." Mrs. Sheridan accepted, with

a return of affection equal to her own, the

advances of this amiable, warm-hearted being,

who thus gave herself to her friend ; and from that moment they occupied one house, as before they had shared the same inclinations, tastes, and wishes. Sweet promise of a compensation, that was to console Mrs. Sheridan for the afflictions and privations she had hitherto under- my amiable Mrs. Vere. We can have but one friend to share our heart, to whom we have no reserve, and

•whose loss is irreparable ; but I perceive the absence of a pleasing acquaintance, whose society is no further necessary than as it contributes to enliven solitude, and gets a preference to others, merely by comparison. Still this is a loss easily supplied, as I find by experience. There are Mrs.

!" Veres every where ; but, alas ! there is but one Cecilia MR'i. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 91

gone ! Little did she foresee how soon it was to be blasted.

Miss Pennington's health being attacked, she

became desirous of visiting Bath ; and Mrs.

Sheridan (now become her inseparable friend) accompanied her thither. This was on Miss

Pennington's part a fatal step : for, her complaints being of a feverish nature, the waters were totally unsuited to her case. She soon experienced the ill consequences of having made the trial, and returned with Mrs, Sheridan to London, in a worse state of health than she left it. She lingered some time, during which

Mrs. Sheridan attended her with fond but unavailing affection. Miss Pennington died in the arms of her friend, who never, during the few remaining years of her short but valuable life, lost the remembrance of her virtues.

During her life-time Miss Pennington had expressed an intention of benefiting the child

Anne Elizabeth, who was born while she was with Mrs. Sheridan : but not foreseeing her end was so near, she left no testamentary notice of 92 M E M O I R S O F her wishes upon this subject. Would it had been the only instance of ill-fortune that

daughter had to experience ! Miss Penning- ton dying under Mrs. Sheridan's roof, her heirs made a visit, in order to receive such plate and other valuables as their deceased relative might have had in use while living with her friend. At the same time, as a testimony of their sense of Mrs. Sheridan's affectionate and unremitting attentions, they requested her to select, from among the property left behind, apiece of plate^ to keep as a memorial of her.

Mrs. Sheridan, with the high-minded simplicity and disinterestedness of grief, yet adher- ing to the request to the letter, made choice of Miss Pennington's thimble— a selection in

which the heirs rigidly acquiesced ! After Mrs.

Sheridan's death, another memorial of her lamented friend was found among her property : it was a crystal heart surrounded with golden rays, and enclosing a lock of hair. Within the paper which enfolded it were inscribed the — !

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 93 words " Poor Penny's hair." And beneath them this couplet from Pope

" Oh, name for ever sad ! for ever dear

Still breath'd in sighs, still usher'd with a tear."

Not to break in upon the narration of this interesting part of Mrs. Sheridan's Hfe, I have postponed the mention of two acquaintances which must be dated from her ill-starred journey to Bath. The one was Mrs. Scott, sister to Mrs. Montagu : a woman of very uncommon abilities, and, though now less generally known, a much more voluminous writer than her brilliant and celebrated sister.

This lady, who married George Lewis Scott,

Member of the Royal Society, and Sub-preceptor for the Latin language to his late Majesty, is

described as an excellent historian, and a woman

of great acquirements, extraordinary memory, and strong sense. In every relation of life a person of exemplary conduct, of sound prin-

ciples, enlivened by the warmest sense of reli-

gion, and of a charity so unbounded, so totally

regardless of herself, as to be almost excessive 94 M E M O I U S O F and indiscriminate. Yet all these perfections were, it seems, insufficient to retain the affection of Mr. Scott, from whom she parted early in their marriage, and afterwards lived with her friend Lady Barbara Montagu, sister of

Lord Halifax. Her intercourse with the world was various and extensive, and there were few literary people of her day with whom she had not either an acquaintance or a correspondence.

With such a companion Mrs. Sheridan must have passed many agreeable hours ; and Mr.

Sheridan had a singular esteem for this lady.

Mrs. Scott is the sister so often mentioned in the Letters of Mrs. Montagu by the affectionately playful name of " Pea," from the great similarity that subsisted between them in their youth. She is said also to have rivalled Mrs.

Montagu in epistolary excellence : but she ordered all her letters to be burnt ; and burnt works are apt to excite a degree of regret and enthusiasm, which their production might very probably dissipate, as we generally preserve what is v^'orth preserving. Be her epistolary MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 9<5 talents what they might, her numerous publications, both fictitious and historical,* attest at

once Mrs. Scott's industry and talent ; and perhaps she only required the rays of fortune and fashion, to be as much admired as the brilliant defender of Shakespeare, and anta- gonist of Voltaire.

Another female historian and novelist of

Mrs. Sheridan's acquaintance was Sarah Field- ing, well known as the sister of the celebrated

Henry Fielding. She occupied a small house situated between Bath and Bath Easton, where

Mrs. Sheridan frequently visited her. Her company was much courted, and she spent a good deal of time at the house of Allen, of

Prior Park. This man, who by merit and good conduct had, from the humble situation of a

* She was the author of the " History of GustavusErricson,

King of Sweden, with an introductory History of Sweden, from the middle of the twelfth century." " History of

Mecklenbupgh ;" " Life of Theodore Agrippa D'Aubigne :"

" Millenium Hall ;" " Agreeable Ugliness, or Triumph of the Graces !" &c. &c. &c. :

96 M E M I R S O F postboy, raised himself to be the possessor of an estate and noble fortune, the " Alhvorthy" of

Fielding's most celebrated novel, highly valued

Sarah Fielding's acquirements and agreeable conversation, and allowed her a small annuity but, by a strange neglect or inattention, he forgot to continue it to her by bequest in his will ; so that at his decease she was exposed to serious inconvenience. This conduct towards persons in very narrow circumstances, renders the previous bounty rather a disadvantage on the contrary, by accustoming the receivers to look forward to a regular resource, which, if suddenly cut off, may leave them without the means of satisfying demands, incurred in the full confidence of its continuance. But though attracted both by the love and reciprocity of talent, wherever she chanced to meet it, Mrs.

Sheridan never forgot, that though wit may dazzle, yet esteem is only due to benevolence of heart and purity of mind. Wherever those existed, it required neither depth of acquirement nor brilliancy of intellect to attract her MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 97 favourable notice. She " bore her faculties so meekly" that even after establishing her pretensions to literary talent, she continued

(contrary to what is usually the case) a favourite with her own sex. No caustic raillery, or concealed ridicule was to be feared, by the less gifted female, from her lips, or from her pen.

Her power of inspiring confidence and regard

in the most uncultivated, was remarkable ; and

many a warm and unsophisticated heart, to

whose complaints she had listened, and whose

domestic sorrows she had soothed with patient

sweetness, bore grateful witness to her survivors,

that the admiration and popularity which was

soon to follow Mrs. Sheiidan, never superseded

the virtues which are peculiar to her sex, and

which rendered her a model, whether considered

as a wife, a mother, or a friend.

After Miss Pennington's death, Mrs. Sheridan

removed to Windsor, which change of scene

must have proved very beneficial to her spirits.

Her attention was still further called off from H 98 M E M O I R S O F

melancholy recollections by the arrival of her

two children, Richard and Alicia. *

Being thus settled in an agreeable retreat,

and surrounded by the objects of her most affec-

tionate solicitude, Mrs. Sheridan seems to have

enjoyed a short respite from affliction, and to

have matured her literary plans. Her heart

had been tried by every species of calamity, yet after the first shock was past, instead of

sinking under spirits overclouded with despond-

ency, the fertility of her active fancy and the

* Or " the boys," as- Dr. Watkins calls them : - again, page 103, the death of Miss Pennington is mentioned as

" an inducement" to Mrs. Sheridan, "^ to send for her children ;" as if, but for that circumstance, she might not have thought of them. As the Biographer has, in general, done justice to Mrs. Sheridan's character, a justice which it is to be wished he had extended to that of her husband, it is the more necessary to remove any prejudice this passage might unintentionally create.

The fact was, the sending for her children bore no refer-

ence to Miss Pennington's death ; but was a step suggested by the maternal affection of Mrs. Sheridan, the moment the state of her husband's affairs put it in her power. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 99

buoyancy of her pure and exalted mind rose

brighter than in the happiest days of her pros-

perity.

" We have had a sufficient share of disappointments" (she says, in a letter that bears the

date of this year) " patience, courage, and in-

dustry, however, will surmount every thing."

Mr, Sheridan was also strenuously employed upon bringing to perfection his system of Eng- lish Elocution, at the same time that his theatrical success was such as to alarm even Garrick on his throne.

I am sorry that the biographer of his son seems to be actuated by an invariable prejudice against Mr. T. Sheridan, in every relation which he gives of his disputes with the theatrical ruler of the day.

Not to advert to other passages in the " Me- moirs," in which Mr. Sheridan is accused of depreciating Garrick's genius, and selecting characters with an invidious design to outshine him, a species of conduct which Mr. Sheridan's

II 2 — —

1 00 M E M O I R S O F spirit ever was above, we shall only notice the following passage :

** In the theatrical season of I76O, Mr. She- ridan engaged to play at Drury-lane, where he sometimes performed in the same piece with

Garrick, whose jealousy, it is said, was excited by the popularity which his rival obtained, particularly in the character of King John. That play, we are told, was in consequence laid aside by the manager, who could by no means be induced to renew it, even when he knew that it was a favourite piece with his present" (now his late) " Majesty, who had been pleased to speak highly of Sheridan's representation of the principal character. This, however, must

be considered as an apocryphal tale ; for let the feelings of Garrick be what they would, it is scarcely within the limits of probability that he would venture to suppress what the new sovereign admired." Watkins^s Memoirs, p. 105.

Why is it not within the limits of probability that a stop should be put to the progress of a rival in royal approbation, by a man who has MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 101 been thus characterized by Arthur Murphy, his contemporary, a popular and successful dramatic writer, and one who certainly, whatever temporary vexations Garrick might have caused him, had not so much reason to complain of his conduct as Mr. Sheridan.

" The misfortune of Garrick was, that he never had due confidence in his own talents.

His love of fame was unbounded, but it was tremblingly alive all o'er. He lived in a whis- pering gallery, always listening and anxious about himself. Upon such a disposition, they who lacquied after him could make what impression they pleased. A word was sufficient.

He took fire at the slightest hint ; and they, who had sinister purposes to answer, saw the avenues, by which they were to approach him.

" By the arts of such men, he, who might always have been at ease, and who, by his talents deserved to be so, was ever involved in little disputes and jealousies that made him unhappy through life."*

* Preface to Murphy's Works.

II .'> 102 MEMOIRS OF

This character is completely confirmed by his Biographer and admirer Davies, from whose work numerous passages might be cited, in which he admits that the great abilities of Garrick did not exempt him from jealousy and envy.

Now to a man thus " tremblingly alive all o'er" to fame, who lived thus "in a whisper- ing gallery," we may conceive what must be the effect of the royal approbation of King

John, which part Mr. Sheridan undertook at

Garrick's own request, under the following circumstances. In the theatrical phrase, the play was cast for Garrick to perform the character of King John, and Mr. Sheridan Faulcon- bridge. Before the representation, however, Gar- rick came to Sheridan and said, " I don't know what to do with this character of King John. It is a heavy declamatory part^ not at all in my way

—I am sure you could make a great deal more of it, and you would greatly oblige me by exchanging characters " To this Mr. Sheridan

was very averse ; but by the continued solici- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 103

tation of the manager, he was prevailed on at length to take the part of King John, of which

" he made so much " that the play was acted several nights successively with great applause, and being honoured by a command, it was reported the next day that the King had mentioned Mr. Sheridan's performance, in terms of the highest approbation, at the Levee.

To this Garrick listened with evident impatience and uneasiness, and at length interrupted his in- " formant with Eh, eh ! and what did he say of Faulconbridge ?" To this his acquaintance could only reply that the King said, " He did not like the character."

Such a mortification it was beyond the irri- table sensibility of Garrick to endure. His re-

solution was formed in an instant, and though

the boxes were taken for King John several nights successively, he would never afterwards permit the play to be acted.

Such is the real account (in every material particular confirmed by Davies the Biographer

of Garrick) of this theatrical transaction. H 4 104 MEMOIRS OF

Davies was certainly no way partial to Mr.

Sheridan, nor disposed to exalt his merit by

unduly depreciating that of Garrick. Yet, in

another place, he justly observes, that *' admi-

rably suited as the flexibility of Garrick's

powers was to all the various passions of the

human heart, his voice wanted that fulness of

sound requisite to the delivery of a long decla-

matory speech, or to give force and dignity to

mere sentiment."

But in considering King John as a merely declamatory part, Garrick forgot the opportunity afforded for the display of conflicting passions in the scene with Hubert in the third act, an opportunity so admirably improved by

Mr. Sheridan, that even Churchill in his Ros- ciad could not withhold from him his warmest approbation. The dying scene in the last act was also allowed in the performance to be the masterpiece of Sheridan, as in the writing it is the masterpiece of Shakespeare. There is nothing similar to it in the Drama, except, perhaps, the " Valentinian" of Fletcher ; and ther^e J

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 10 the bad effect of that exaggerating principle is perceptible, by which, in endeavouring to in- crease a thousand-fold the sufferings of the dying monarch, and thus by dint of words to outdo the great model left him by Shakespeare,

Fletcher, instead of surpassing him, falls far below the power of his simple but great original.

When Mr. Sheridan performed King John in

Ireland, some old ladies observed, " that in the dying scene it was quite prophane of him to imitate Nature so exactly."*

* Notwithstanding Mrs. Inchbald's histrionic doubts, according to the concurrent testimony of all his contemporaries, the theatrical talents of Garrick were wonderful, his literary powers respectable, and he was certainly possessed of many private virtues. But let us not for that reason be unjust to the memory of a man, whom many opposed to him as his rival in talent, and who certainly surpassed him in moral worth, and open, manly firmness and sincerity of

character. Davies himself says, " Mr. Sheridan had been

long esteemed a man of eminence in his profession," and

adds that critics did not scruple to compare, nay prefer,

Sheridan's performance of Richard, Hamlet, and Macbeth»

to 106 MEMOIRS OF

Dr. Watkins adds : " Bat in reality the rea-

son for suspending the performance of King

to the other's utmost efforts in those parts : he then continues, " but indeed the Manager's own jealousy justified

the public good opinion of Mr. Sheridan's ability ; but Gar-

rick's ruling passion was the love of fame ; and his uneasiness, arising from the success of Sheridan, began every day to be more and more visible." Notwithstanding his nice critical taste and extensive theatrical experience,

Garrick was sometimes liable to be mistaken, and sometimes influenced by jealousy to keep out of public view the merits of even female performers. He assured the celebrated Mrs. Barry that she liad no genius for Tragedy, and advised her as a friend to give up all thoughts of the stage as a profession. Returning home, much dispirited, in consequence of this decision, Mrs. Barry accidentally communicated it to Mr. Whately, who proposed taking her to

Mr. Sheridan to have Iws unbiassed opinion. Mr. Sheridan immediately perceived that she possessed tragic powers of the first order, but that she wanted confidence in herself and usage of the stage. He therefore strongly advised her to practise in the country, before she ventured again to

encounter the critical audience of a metropolis ; after which he entertained no doubt of her ultimate success. Mrs.

Barry profited by his advice, and eventfully justified his prediction, as she afterwards became one of the most brilliant ornaments of the sta^e. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 107

John, was one of a very different kind, and in which the interests of Sheridan were principally consulted. This was the introduction of the tragedy of the Earl of Essex, written by Mr.

Henry Brooke,* and originally brought out with some alterations on the Dublin stage by

Mr. Sheridan, who then represented the capital character with great applause.*'

Now the fact is, it was written by Banks, altered by Brooke, and finally retouched by

Mr. Sheridan. The celebrated Bucentaur does not appear to have gone through a greater number of reparations than this tragedy. It was originally written by Banks, and entitled

" The Unhappy Favorite." The situations being affecting, but the language a strange mixture of meanness and bombast, it was altered by a

Mr. James Ralph, and new-named " The Fall of Essex." Being deemed capable of still fur-

ther improvement, the whole was composed anew by Jones and Brooke, and denominated

" The Earl of Essex," which name, it is to be

* Author of the Fool of Quality. 108 MEMOIRS OF

hoped, it will be permitted to retain. Mr. Brooke

attended chiefly to the improvement of the situa-

tions of the play, and Jones to the harmony of

the language. Mr. Brooke's alteration was the

one adopted by Mr. Sheridan (who was his coiisin) ; and old Benjamin Victor thus writes

of it in his inimitable phraseology :

" The tragedy of the Earl of Essex, new- written by Mr. Brooke, was brought to the stage and performed with great applause. The plan of the first author. Banks, being universally approved, was preserved by Mr. Brooke, who made no alteration, but in the last act where

Essex and Southampton are going to execution,

"which proved an agreeable incidentJ*

To return to the literary employments of Mrs.

Sheridan. Although in composing the novel of

" Sidney Biddulph," she considered Richard- son as her master, she had the good sense and judgment to be conscious of his defects ; and, observing upon the unreasonable length of his productions, made this poignant remark — that MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. lOQ

" In the novels of Richardson, the Bookseller got the better of the Author."

As nothing is more uncertain than literary success, Mrs. Sheridan, unwilling that any hopes raised in the partial mind of her husband from the merit of the progressive work, should be blighted, did not communicate any portion of it to him, either by reading or conversation, till the whole was completed.

It was her custom to write with a small trunk

or chest placed beside her, into which she put her manuscript, if Mr. Sheridan chanced to

enter the room while she was thus employed.

He knew that she was engaged on a work

family from which she expected benefit to her ;

but as Mrs. Sheridan forbore to explain it, he

avoided on his part making any enquiries : so

that he was literally ignorant of the subject of

the work until it was brought to a conclusion. 110 M E M O I R S O F

CHAPTER V.

Sidney Biddulph— Successful in France.—Abbe Prevost— Dramatized in France L'Habitant de la Guadaloupe

Curious Note annexed to the French edition of Sidney

Biddulph. —Different Judgments passed upon it. —Dr. Johnson Mrs. Barbauld Dr. Parr.—Mr. Fox.—Cri- tique on Sidney Biddulph.— Smollett. — Sidney presented under a new point of View.—A Work of Humour as well as Pathos. — Selections from Sidney Biddulph.

At length the doubts and fears of the author were dispelled in a manner the most flattering to her feelings. The " Memoirs of Miss Sid- ney Biddulph" were published, March I7GI, and the book became an immediate and perma- nent favourite.

Notwithstanding the high praise bestowed by

Richardson on her " Eugenia and Adelaide,*' it is but justice to observe, that bright and aus- picious dawn of fame scarcely taught her to expect the full and steady radiance which afterwards distinguished her meridian celebrity.

In that juvenile performance, " Love, only MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. Ill

Love," inspired the rich, romantic page,

whether it dwelt upon the fully delineated sufferings of Adelaide and Eugenia, or the episo-

dical sketches of Clara and Raphael, Cynthia,

Violante, and Isidore. Though the adventures and surprises were varied and interesting, the moral improvement was not proportionably great.

In Sidney Biddulph, the offspring of her maturer years, on the contrary. Love was reduced to his subordinate place, and made subservient to the triumph of wedded constancy, and the exercise of the domestic duties and affections.

The reception of her novel in France was equally gratifying to the feelings of Mrs. Sheri- dan. A translation immediately appeared under the title of " Memoires d'une Jeune Dame," by the Abbe Prevost, the translator of Richard- son's works, and author of " Cleveland," and several other interesting and popular performances. This faithful and elegant version the

Abbe transmitted to Mrs. Sheridan, accompanied 112 MEMOIR SOF by a letter conceived in terms the most highly complimentary. *

A part of Sidney Biddulph was also brought upon the stage. The story was taken from the passage describing the unexpected return of

Warner, the West Indian, and the piece was entitled " L' Habitant de la Guadeloupe.'* The adaptation was very successful, and became as popular in France as the Opera taken from

*' Tom Jones," or " Tome Jaune," to accom- modate it to the rules of gallic orthoepy.

In England, though it has at length been in some measure superseded by more modern favourites, '* Sidney Biddulph" continued for a succession of years to be read and admired

by all persons of true taste ; among the number of those who have expressed themselves in the

* In this translation a curious note occurs. In describing the inhospitable reception she met with at Lady Sarah Bid- dulph's, Sidney mentions waiting in a room which " having been netcly ivashcd, felt extremely cold." Upon this circumstance the editor remarks, " according to the detestable custom of the English." !

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 113 highest terms upon its merits, I need only adduce the illustrious names of the late Charles

James Fox and Dr. Samuel Parr.

Among Mrs. Sheridan's contemporaries, none admired her novel more warmly than Dr. John- son, whose compliment to her upon its publication has been more frequently repeated than " any other. I know not, Madam ! that you have a right, upon moral principles, to make your readers suffer so much."*

This compliment of Dr. Johnson's was first given by Mr. Boswell, in his " Life " of that great man, and afterwards recorded, without variation or addition, by Mrs. Barbauld in her

" Life and Correspondence of Samuel Richard- son."

It is to be regretted, that a lady of Mrs.

Barbauld's taste, and unquestionable discrimi-

* Perhaps the Doctor had in his mind the well-known story of the Greek poet, Phrynichus, who wasjined by the sensitive Athenians for exhibiting before them a tragedy which affected them too much. They would have shewn more true feeling, by remitting the fine to the poor poet

1 —

114 MEMOIRS OF

nation, should not liave qualified it by some

additional remark on a work so diversified as " Sidney Biddulph."

As it stands, the observation of Dr. Johnson

includes but half its praise, and min-ht convev

to the minds of some readers an erroneous

impression ; for the fact is, that humour, as well

as pathos, forms a leading quality in the novel of " Sidney Biddulph." Before I conclude the subject, I shall add one or two extracts from the work in confirmation of this remark.

An old master of the art* has aptly defined a novel to be " a large diffused picture, com- prehending the characters of life, disposed in different groups, and exhibited in various atti- tudes, for the purposes of a uniform plan and general concurrence, to which every individual figure is subservient." He adds

" But this plan cannot be executed with propriety, probability, or success, without a principal person to attract the attention, unite the incidents, unwind the clue of the labyrinth,

* Smollett. —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 115 and at last close the scene by virtue of his own importance."

If this definition be admitted to be correct,

*' Sidney Biddulph" may, without fear of contradiction, be pronounced to afford one of the best specimens of a well-written novel — the fable faultless—the incidents well prepared— the characters all conducive to the catastrophe and even the hero himself a personage of some importance to the plot.

Orlando Faulkland, in addition to all those qualities which most interest and please, possesses that rarest attribute of heroes and heroines, either in or out of books, a fund of humour and entertainment. This greatly increases the sympathy he inspires, when tliat fine mind is for ever overclouded by calamity.

The only defects of Faulkland*s character are, a warm impetuosity of feeling, and an imprudent hastiness of temper, the consequences of wliich he has reason to deplore to the latest period of his existence.

1 '2 Il6 MEMOIRS OF

Mrs. Sheridan's novel is not (like many

otherwise excellent compositions) an enter-

taining gallery of portraits, but of portraits

to which the painter has assigned little employ-

ment, or at best a forced one. Hey^ figures, on the contrary, are exhibited each in the attitude in which their predominant humour and character would most naturally place them, and which is best calculated to elucidate the progress of the story.

Thus, in the character of Lady Biddulph, the heroine's mother, her peculiar prejudices and modes of thinking, are not only very effec- tively described and accounted for in themselves, but they bear upon the story in a manner the most important, as, " had " she" been less stern," she would have read, or listened to Faulkland's justification, and all the miseries occasioned by her well-meaning, but provoking obstinacy, would have been prevented.

While the few foibles of Lady Biddulph occasion, sometimes amusement, and sometimes regret, the sterling virtues of lier heart com- ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 117 mand iinmingled praise. We discern the superior penetration and latent playfulness of Sid- ney's mind, leading her sometimes to indulge in a smile at the unconquerable prejudices of her " dear literal parent," but at the same time chastised by that reverential awe and filial deference, which at the time in which the events are supposed to take place,* formed the first principle inculcated in female education.

Tlie character of Sidney Biddulph, the he-

roine, is one unfortunately almost forgotten in the regions of romance—That of a woman, young, beautiful, and engaging, of a disposition equally removed from the extremes of levity or austerity—amiable without artifice, virtuous without prudery, and pious without pretension. Sidney is neither a bigot nor a freethinker, neither insipid nor volatile. She is no female philosopher, who could find in

science or study a compensation for the disappointment of the finest aflf'ections of her heart

neither is she -a tall, pale, gigantic heroine, full

* About the beginning of Queen Anne's reign.

1 .S —

118 MEMOIRS OF six feet high, without her stilts, whose lofty person is an emblem of lier loftier mind, and each of whose maxims deserves to become a universal aphorism. In one word, she is reader, have you lately met with such a one ?— unaffected.

Simple, artless, and unpretending,

" She frowns no goddess, and she moves no queen,"

Yet she is highly informed, possesses a cultivated mind, and rich intellectual resources.

Sidney introduces herself to the reader with native cheerfulness, the result of innocence, and tender sensibilities, corrected by delicacy.

We enjoy, mth her, the few^ and brief hours of happiness allotted to her, and sympathize with equal warmth in the unmerited afflictions that succeed them.

The character of her brother. Sir George

Biddulph, is so well delineated by the author, that it would be impossible to add a word to it without injury.

** Sir George Biddulph was nine or ten ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 119 years older than his sister. He was a man of

a good understanding, moral as to his general

conduct, but void of any of those refined sen-

timents which constitute what is called deli-

cacy Pride is sometimes accounted laudable ;

that which Sir George possessed (for he had

pride) was not of this kind.'*

And again, in the second part, " Sir George

is rather apt to overdo every thing, and xvoidd

exert as much force to i^einove a father, as to

^^ lift an anchor.

The character of Lady Sarah Biddulph, his

wife, is drawn with much humour and spirit

and her little paltry meannesses contrast well

with the more lofty and overbearing character

of her lord.

The religious sentiments interspersed through-

out the work, breathe a strain of piety so fer-

vent and sincere, that they cannot fail to ex-

cite a responsive sympatliy in every serious mind.

The incidents and sudden turns of fortune

are so \aiious and surprising, that it is im|)os-

j i 120 MEMOIRS OF sible for the reader, the most practised in that style of composition, to foresee or calculate upon them ; at the same time, every step, every event is prepared and accounted for, in a manner so natural, that it is difficult to resist the illusion which frequently recurs, that we are reading a real history.

The interest never flags a moment, but on the contrary goes on rising, with the force of dramatic composition, to the closing scenes, which should be read in solitude, and with

the door locked to prevent interruption ; for the mind hangs suspended in breathless anxiety upon the catastrophe, which is worked up with that strong, increasing, deepening, nervously agitating interest, that affords to the novel reader the most delightful exercise of the feelings of sympathy and curiosity.

And this effect is produced without any ela-

borate effort, any over-strained endeavours to

rouse the passions.

There has of late subsisted among writers

of fiction, a kind of emulation which shall outdo —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 121 his predecessor in terrifying and heart-rending deHneations. So they can

" On horror's head horrors accumulate," they think they have an undoubted right to reign triumphant over the feeUngs of the reader, and \^e are at every moment reminded of the observation of Napoleon

" Du sublime au ridicule il n'y a qu'un pas."

No such exaggeration takes place in the conduct of the closing scene of the first part of

" Sidney Biddulph.'*

To compare it with the " Veil" of the Gre- cian painter, would be a similitude too trite and obvious ; although such a comparison must occur to the mind of every reader of taste.

Tliis axiom in criticism, the prudent forbearance of the author may at least serve to illus- trate — that there is a certain point at which the bounds of terror and pity are—fixed ; whenever those bounds are overpast, disgust and horror usurp their place in the mind. The 122 MEMOIRS OF reader turns shuddering from the spectacle forced upon Iiis view, and both the picture and moral are lost alike in the eager desire to forget.

It is before arriving at that point, therefore, that the judicious writer ought to stop — assured that such well-timed reserve, instead of dimi- nishing, will heighten both the practical and poetical effect of the work.

As an old work often possesses something of novelty to young readers, I shall now endeavour, by a brief analysis and a few extracts, to illus- trate the foregoing preliminary observations.

The family of Miss Sidney Biddulph is represented as consisting of herself, her mother, a widow lady, and her brother, Sir George Bid- dulph, who (with his sisterj is the only survivor of ten children.

The history (which is carried on journalwise)

opens with a description of the joyous reunion

in London of these three persons so justly dear

to each other, after Sir George Biddulph's ab-

sence on account of his health at Spa.

The first dialogue introduces the different MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 123 characters of the three personages so happily, and renders so perfectly intelligible all that follows, that I give it as it was given by Sidney to her friend Cecilia.

" I asked Sir George, jocosely, what he had brought me home ? He answered, " Perhaps a good husband." My mother caught up the word, *' What do you mean, son ?"— " I mean.

Madam, that there is come over with me a gentleman, v^^ith whom I became acquainted in

Germany, who of all the men I ever knew, I would wish to have for a brother. If Sidney should fortunately be born under the influence of uncommonly good stars, it may happen to be brought about. I can tell you (applying himself to me) he is prepossessed in your favour

already ; I have shewn him some of your letters, and he thinks you a good sensible girl. I told him you were very well in your person, and that you have had an excellent education." " I hope so," said my mother, looking pleased ;

" and what have you to tell us of this wonderful man that so surpasses every body ?" " Why, 124" MEMOIRS OF

Madam, for your part of his character, he is one of the best young men I ever saw. I never knew any body equal to him for sobriety, nor

so entirely free from all the vices of youth ; as

I lived in the same house with him for some months, I had frequent opportunities of making my observations.*'

" An admirable character, indeed," said my

*' mother. So thought I too ; but I wanted to know a little more of him. Now, Sidney, for

your share in the description ; I must tell you he is most exquisitely handsome, and extremely sensible.'*

" Good sense, to be sure, is requisite," said my mother, '* but as for beauty, it is but a fading flower at best, and in a man not at all necessary."—" A man is not the worse for it, however," cried my brotlier. — " No ;" my mother answered, " provided it does not make him vain, and too fond of the admiration of giddy girls." — '• That, I will be sworn, is not

the case of my friend," answered Sir George ;

*' I believe nobody with such a person as his —;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 125

(if there can be such another) would be so little vain of it; nay, I have heard him declare, that even in a woman he would give the preference to sense and virtue."

" Good young man," cried my mother

" I should like to he acquainted with him."

(" So should I," whispered I to my own heart.)

" Well, brother," said I, " you have drawn a good picture ; but to make it complete, you must throw in generosity, valour, sweetness of temper, and a great deal of money."—" Fie, my dear, (said my good literal parent) a great

deal is not necessary ; a very moderate fortune with such a man is sufficient."

" The good qualities you require in the finishing of my piece," answered my brother, he possesses in an eminent degree—will that satisfy you ? As for his fortune, there, perhaps, a difficulty may step in : what estate, madam,

(to my mother) do you think my sister's fortune may entitle her to ?"

" Dear brother," I cried, " pray do not speak in that bargaining way." 126 MEMOIRS OF

My mother answered him very gravely,

" your father, you know, left her but four

thousand pounds ; it is in my power to add a little to it, if she marries to please me. Great matters we have no right to expect ; but a very good girl, as my daughter is, I think deserves more than a bare equivalent." —" The equality," said my brother, with a demure look, " I fear is out of all proportion here, for the gentlemen I speak of has but— six

thousand pounds a year.

He burst out a laughiug ; it was not good-

natured and I was vexed at his joke. My poor

mother dropped her countenance ; I looked

silly, as if I had been disappointed, but I said

nothing.

** Then he is above our reach, Sidney," answered my mother.

I made no reply — " Have a good heart, Sid,"

cried my brother ; if my nonpareil likes you,

when he sees you, (I felt myself hurt, and

grew red) and without a compliment, sister,

(seeing me look mortified), I think he will. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 1^7 fortune will be no objection. I have already

told him the utmost of your expectations ; he would hardly let me mention the subject. He has a mind for my sister, and if he finds her personal accomplishments answer a brother's

(perhaps partial) description, it will be your own fault, if you have not the prettiest fellow in England for your husband."

In this short scene the peculiarities of the three different personages are at once brought into play. The bluntness and want of delicacy of Sir George, the plain literal understanding and maternal affection of Lady Bid- dulph, and the modest sweetness of Sidney appear in strong contrast.

Sidney further learns from her brother that his friend, who was gone to Bath for a few weeks, had commissioned Sir George to take a house in his own neiglibourhood for him, in St. James's Square. " The name of this piece of perfection (she continues) is Faulk- lank—Orlando Faulkland." Upon cross-exa- mining Sir George, however, it appears that he 128 MEMOIRS OF

is no faultless mirror of insipid excellence. He

seems made up of contrarieties.

" Nature," says Sir George, " never formed

a temper so gentle, so humane, so benevolent

as his ; yet when provoked, no tempest is more

furious. You would imagine him so humble,

that he thinks every one superior to himself;

yet through this disguise have I discovered at

certain times, a pride which makes him look

down on all mankind. With a disposition

formed to relish, and a heart attached to the

domestic pleasures of life, he is of so enter-

prizing a temper, that dangers and difficulties rather encourage than dishearten him in the pursuit of a favourite point. His ideas of love, honour, generosity, and gratitude, are so refined, that no hero in romance ever went beyond him. The modesty and affability of his deportment make every body fancy, when he is in company with them, that he is de-

lighted with their conversation ; nay, he often

affects to be improved and informed ; yet tliere is a sly turn to ridicule in him, which, though MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 129 without the least tincture of ill-nature, makes him see and represent things in a light the very opposite of that in which you fancied he saw them. With the nicest discernment when he permits his judgment alone to determine, let passion interfere, and a child can impose on him.

Though very handsome, he affects to despise

is beauty in his own sex ; yet it easy to perceive, by the nice care he takes in his dress, that he does not altogether disregard it in his own person."

At length Orlando arrives. In person, manners, and address, he fully answers to Sir George's

description : a description, however, which in-

cluded strong lights and shades ; and which, therefore, prepares the reader for the variety and vicissitudes of his fortune.

find Sidney's declared We soon him lover j and yet Sidney confesses that she has discovered in him some of those little (and they are but little) alloys to his many good qualities mentioned by Sir George. " There is that sly turn for ridicule which my brother observed in K 130 MEMOIRS OF

him ; yet, to do him justice, he never employs

it but where it is deserved ; and then, too, with

so much vivacity and good-humour that one cannot be angry with him."

Of this she gives the following lively example.

" We had a good deal of company at dinner

with us to-day ; amongst the rest young Sayers, who is returned from his travels, as he calls it.

You remember he went away a good-humoured, inoffensive, quiet fool ; he has brought no one ingredient of that character back with him but

the last ; for such a stiff, conceited, overbearing,

talkative, impertinent coxcomb, does not exist. His mother, who, poor woman, you know, made

a simpleton of the boy, contributes now all in

her power to finish the fop ; and she carries

him about with her every where for a show.

We were assembled in the drawing-room before

dinner; in burst (for it was not a common

entry) master Sayers and his mamma, the cub

handing in the old lady ; so stiff, and so auk-

ward, and so ungraceful, and so very unlike

Mr. Faukland, that I pitied the poor thing, who MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 131

thought every body would adinire him as much

as his mother did. After he had been presented

to the ladies (for it was the first time we had

seen him since he came home), he took a turn

or two about the room to exhibit his person ;

then applying himself to a picture that hung

over the door (a fine landscape of Claude

Lorrain, which Mr. Faulkland himself had

brought over and given to Sir George), he asked

my brother, in a tone scarcely articulate, whe-

ther we had any painters in England ? My mo-

ther, who by chance heard him, and by greater

chance understood him, answered, before Sir

' George had time, Painters, Sir ! yes, sure, and

some very good ones too ; why you cannot have forgot that ; it is not much above a year since you went abroad' (for you must know he had been recalled upon the death of an uncle, who

had left him his estate). I observed Mr. Faulk- land constrained a sly laugh, on account both of the manner of my mother's taking his question, and her innocently undesigned reprimand.

Sayers pretended not to hear her, but looking

K 2 13S MEMOIRS OF through his fingers, as if to throw the picture into perspective, ' that is a pretty good piece,' said he, *for a copy.' ' Oh !' cried his mother,

* there is no pleasing you ; people who have been abroad are such connoisseurs in painting !' Nobody making an immediate answer, Mr.

Faukland- stepped up to Mr. Sayers, and with such a roguish humility in his countenance, that you would have sworn he was a very ignoramus, said ' Are you of opinion, Sir, that that picture is nothing but a copy ?' ' Nothing more, take

my word for it, Sir. When I was at Rome,

there was a Dutchman there who made it his

business to take copies o/"copies, which he dis-

persed, and had people to sell for him in diffe-

rent parts, at pretty good prices ; and they did

mighty well, for very few people know a pic-

ture ; and I'il answer for it there are not many

masters of eminence but what have a hundred

originals palmed upon them, more than ever

they painted in their lives.*

" Mr. Faulkland then proceeded to ask him

abundance of questions, which any one who did MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. ISS not know him, would have thought he proposed

for no other end but a desire of information ; and the poor coxcomb Sayers plumed himself upon displaying so much travelled knowledge to a wondering ignorant Englishman, who had never been out of his own country. The company were divided into little chatting parties, as is usual when people are whiling away half an hour before dinner. Mrs. Sayers, my mother, and I, were sitting together on a couch, near enough to hear the conversation that passed between the two gentlemen ; at least as much as was not sunk in the affected, half pronounced sentences of Mr. Sayers, His mother, to whom he was the principal object of attention in the company, seemed mightily pleased at the opportunity her son had, from the inqui- sitiveness of Mr. Faulkland (whom she did not

know , of shewing his taste in the polite arts ; and often looked about to observe if any body else attended to them. My dear literal mother fas I often call her to you^ took every thing seriously, and whispered me, * how pretty that is,

K 3 134 MEMOIRS OF

Sidney i Iiow condescending is Mr. Faulkland !

You see he does not make a parade of his own knowledge in these matters, but is pleased to reap the benefit of other people's.' I, who saw

the latent roguery, could hardly contain myself.

Indeed I was amazed at Mr. Faulkland's grave,

inquisitive face, and was very glad my mother

did not find him out. /

" Sayers, elated with having shone so conspi-

cuously (for he observed that both my mother

and I attended to his discourse), proceeded to

shew away with an immensity of vanity and

frothy chat, beginning every new piece of his-

tory with, ' when I was at Rome, or when I was

at Paris.* At last, unluckily for him, speaking

of an incident (which made a good deal of

noise, and happened at the first-mentioned

place,) in which two English gentlemen had

been concerned, he said it was about eleven

months ago, just before he left Rome. My

mother, who had heard Mr. Faulkland relate

the same story, but with some different circum-

stances, immediately said, * Mr. Faulkland, have MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 1,3^

I not heard you speak of that? you were at

Rome yourself when the affair happened; and if I am not mistaken, it was through your interest with Cardinal that tlie business was made up.'

" If a spectre had appeared to poor Sayers, he could not have looked more aghast ; he dropped his visage half way down his breast, and for the Jirst time speaking very plahiy and very loud, too, with a stare of astonishment, said,

* ?' — have you been at Rome, Sir * I was there for a little time,' answered Mr. Faulkland, with real modesty, for he pitied the mortified buz-

* zard ; and I know the story was represented as you have told it; the circumstances differed in a few particulars, but the facts were nearly as you have related them.'

" How obligingly did he reconcile the out of- countenance Sayers to himself and to the com-

* ?' pany 1 Were you long abroad, pray Sir said the coxcomb. * About five years. Sir,* answered

* Mr. Faulkland ; but I perceive by the conversation I have had the honour of holding with

K 4 ;

136 MEMOIRS OF you to-day, that many accurate and curious observations escaped me, which you made in a much shorter space of time ; for the communication of which I think myself extremely obliged to you.' Whether the poor soul thought him serious (as my mother did), I cannot tell he made a bow, however, for the compliment, but was so lowered that he did not say a word more of Rome or Paris for the rest of the day; and in this we had a double advantage, for as he had nothing else to talk of, his mouth was effectually stopped, except when Mr. Faulkland, out of compassion, asked him (as he often did) such questions as he thought he could answer

without exposing his ignorance : for he was con- tented to have enjoyed it in their tete-d-tetey and was far from wishing the company to be witnesses of it.

" I think this little incident may give you some idea of this man's turn. Sir George laughed heartily at it, and said it was so like

him ! My brother loves even his faults, though he will not allow me to call them by that name." MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 137

A short, but halcyon interval succeeds, marked only by the further insight Sidney gains into the character of Faulkland : his humanity, generosity, and princely magnificence. At length, ;" in her own phrase, her " probation is over the day is fixed for their union, and it is only deferred till all the necessary preliminaries can be adjusted. Just in this glow of felicity, a cloud is thrown over the satisfaction of the lovers by the indisposition of Miss Biddulph.

It increases ; a cold neglected turns to a fever.

All thoughts of marriage are necessarily deferred. For several days her life is in extreme danger. At the end of this eventful interval she thus resumes her journal.

" July 27.—After a fortnight, a dreadful fortnight's intermission, I resume my pen. I have often told you, Cecilia, I was not born to

be happy. Oh ! I prophesied when I said so, though I knew not why I said it.

" I will try to recollect all the circumstances of this miserable interval, and relate them as well as I can. The last line in my journal in- 138 MEMOIRS OF

forms you that I was ill : I was let blood, but my disorder increased, and I was in a high fever before next morning. I remember what my reflections were, and am sure my apprehensions of death were not on my own account afflicting, but grievously so at the thoughts of what those should feel whom I was to leave behind.

" My mother and Mr. Faulkland, I believe, chiefly engaged my mind ; but I did not continue long capable of reflection. The violence of my disorder deprived me of my senses on the fourth day, and they tell me I raved of Mr.

Faulkland. I remember nothing, but that in my intervals of reason I always saw my poor mother in tears by my bed-side. I was in the utmost danger : but it pleased God to restore me to the ardent prayers of my dear parent. In about ten days I began to shew some symptoms of amendment, and inquired how Mr. Faulk- land did. lAy mother answered, * he is well, my dear, and gone out of town, but I believe will return in a day or two.' * Gone out of

' town,' said I, and leave me dying ! indeed ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 139 that was not kind of Mr. Faulkland, and I shall tell him so.' My mother wa9 sitting on the

bed-side, and had hold of my hand ; my brother

was standing with his back to the fire-place :

I observed they looked at one another, but neither made me any answer. * Pray, Sir

George,* I cried, * would you serve the woman so whom you were so near making your wife ?'

My brother v/as going to reply, but my mother frowned at him : he looked displeased, and went out of the room. ' Dear madam,' said I, * there is something the matter with Mr. Faulkland don't keep me in suspense. I know there is something which you and my brother would conceal from me. Is Mr. Faulkland sick ?'

' Not that I know of, I assure you,' answered my mother; * he was well yesterday, for we had a message from him to inquire after your health, as we have had every day, for he is but

at Richmond ; and you know, if he were in town, he could receive no other satisfaction than hearing from you, as you are too ill to admit of any visits.' My mother rang the bell imme- 140 MEMOIRS or

diately, and asked me to take something ; I saw she wanted to turn the conversation. My maid

Ellen came into the room, and I asked no more questions.

" My mother staid with me till it was time for her to go to rest ; but avoided mentioning

Mr. Faulkland's name, or giving me an oppor-

tunity of doing it ; for she tenderly conjured me to keep myself quite composed, and not to talk. The doctor assured her this night tliat

he thought me out of danger ; and she retired with looks of cordial delight.

** She was no sooner gone than I called Ellen to my bed-side, and charged her to tell me all she knew concerning Mr. Faulkland. The poor girl looked concerned, and seemed to study for

* an answer. Lord bless me, madam. ! what should / know of him more than my lady has told you ?' * When did you see him ?' said I. f Not for several days,' she answered. * Where is he ?' ' At Richmond, I heard Sir George

say ; but I suppose he will come to town as soon as he hears you are well enough to receive him.' MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 141

I caught hold of her hand ; ' Ellen, I know there is something relative to Mr. Faulkland

which you all want to hide from me ; do not at-

tempt to deceive me ; you may be sure, whatever it be, I must soon be informed of it ; in the mean while my doubts make me very unhappy.'

*' The good-natured girl's trouble and confusion increased as I spoke : * my dear madam,' she replied, ' when you are better, my lady will tell you — all.' ' No, no, Ellen, I must know it now ; tell it me this minute, or you must never expect to see me better under such uncertainty. What is the ally the frightful all, that I am to be told? How you have shocked me with that 1'" little word The explanation comes but too soon. The

first day after Sidney's illness, a vile anonymous

scrawl, directed to her, had accused Faulkland

of falsehood and perfidy ; of seducing and for-

saking a young lady whom he met at Bath, and

whose letter, appealing in the tenderest terms to

his honour and compassion, and dcjirecating his 14f2 MEMOIRS OF

approaching marriage with another, was enclos-

ed in the cover. This letter (sent in revenge

by a discarded servant who had robbed his mas-

ter of it) Lady Biddulph, during the illness of

Sidney, had opened. She taxed Mr. Faulkland

with the facts, which he could not deny ; but

hinted that there were very mitigating circum-

stances ; w^hile Sir George more warmly inter-

posed, and declared Faulkland to be absolutely

under no engagements whatever to the fair

writer, and to have been merely the victim of a very weak, and a very bad woman — an aunt

and niece. Lady Biddulph would hear nothing on the subject. A circumstance that occurred to herself in early life, gave her an almost super- stitious horror to the marriage of her daughter with a man on whom another woman had any sort of claim. The warm and imprudent, but generous Faulkland, is condemned without a hearing ; all his letters and his attempts at justification are alike rejected, and Lady Biddulph calls upon her daughter to justify the excellent precepts she has received from her earliest youth. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 143 by shewing herself capable of firmness in this first severe trial of her affections. The heart of

Sidney pleads for Orlando—a secret presentiment tells her that Lady Biddulph has been too preci-

pitate ; her brother (and surely a brother might be trusted in what concerned a sister's honour) warmly pleads for Faulkland, but in vain. Lady Biddulph had even governed her daughter with despotic sway ; as Sidney eloquently expresses it, " her neck had been early bowed to obedience." Every sentiment of delicacy demanded that she should not appear less scrupulous than her mother on this important occasion. The match is broken off. Faulkland, unable to remain in the scene of his lost happiness, goes to Germany ; and Sidney is hurried into the country, where, some months afterwards, a matchmaking old lady, in conjunction with her mother, hurries on a marriage between her and a Mr. Arnold, upon the common-place pretext that, as her marriage with Mr. Faulkland had been much talked of, nothing would so surely save her from mortification in tlie eyes of the 144 MEMOIRS OF world, as the speedily appearing in it as the bride of another. The victim of obedience,

Sidney bestows on Mr. Arnold her passive and

reluctant hand : but afterwards finds, in the indulgence of her husband, and the endearments of two lovely children some compensation for the agonies she has suffered. But she is destined for greater trials—destined to experience the unjustly alineated affections of a husband, and to drain to the last dregs the bitter cup of calamity.

The woman, or rather avenging fiend, who by entangling the weak Arnold in her chains is to accomplish this diabolical purpose, is described with some of the happiest strokes of

Mrs. Sheridan's pen. Sidney and her husband remove to South Park, a country residence set-

tled upon her at her marriage : they are there visited by two " charming women," as the un- suspecting Sidney describes them, Mrs.Gerrard and Lady V . Lady V is really the amiable being she appears : but Mrs. Gerrard is, though unknown by name to Sidney, the ser- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 145 pent who had ah'eady worked so much evil to her and Faulkland, by purposely throwing in his way the weak girl who had led him into a temporary error, expiated by a lasting punish- ment. But this appears hereafter. The following are Sidney's first impressions of this false friend.

" We dined to-day, according to appointment, with Mrs. Gerrard. She called her house a cottage, nor does it appear much better at the outside, but within, it is a fairy palace. Never was any thing so neat, so elegant, so perfectly well fancied as the fitting up of all her rooms.

Her bedchambers are furnished with fine chintzes, and her drawing-room with the prettiest Indian satin I ever saw. Her little villa is called Ashby, and her husband, she told me, purchased it for her some time before his death, and left- it to her.

*' Our entertainment was splendid almost to profusion, though there was no company but

Mr. Arnold and myself I told lier if she always gave such dinners it would frighten me

away from her : indeed it was the only circum-

L —

146 MEMOIRS OF stance in her whole conduct that did not please me, for I was charmed with the rest of her behaviour.

" If Mrs. Gerrard is not as highly polished as some women are, who perhaps have had a more enlarged education, she makes full amends for it by a perfect good humour, a sprightliness always entertaining, and a quickness of thought that gives her conversation an air of something very like wit, and which I dare say passes for the thing itself with most people." {Sidney

Biddulph, Vol. I.)

It is needless to point out the pleasing and delicate turn of discrimination in this last sentence. Now view the reverse of the picture by a hand that knew her better. In a letter to Sir

George Biddulph, Faulkland thus expresses him-

self upon the subject of Mrs. Gerrard :

" She has no solid understanding; but possesses, in the place of it, a sort of flashy wit, that imposes on common hearers, and makes her pass for what is called clever. With a great deal of vanity, and an affectation of tenderness. !

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 147 which covers the most termagant spirit that ever animated a female breast, her ruling and govern-

ing passion is avarice ; and yet, strange to tell generosity is of all things what she professes to admire, and is most studious of having thought her characteristic. Her pretensions to this virtue

I have opposed to her vice of avarice, as the terms appropriated to each seem most contrary in their natures : yet I do not mean by generosity, that bounteous disposition which is com-

monly understood by the word ; no, no ; she aims at the reputation of this virtue in our more exalted idea of it, and would fain be thought a woman of a great soul. This phrase is often in her mouth ; and though her whole conduct gives the lie to her professions, she would tell you fifty stories, without a word of truth in one of them, to prove how nobly she had acted on such and such occasions.'*—(Vol. II.) Surely the hand that traced these two portraits of the same person possessed no common talent for character-painting! — Sidney herself soon begins to discover faults in her new friend. She

L 9, —

148 MEMOIRS OF is not fond of needlework, and she is fond of play. By degrees Mrs. Gerrard throws off the mask. At this juncture Mr. Faulkland returns from abroad. This relationship to Lady V conducts him on a visit to the neighbourhood of

South Park. A slight, a very slight acquaintance is renewed between him and Sidney.

Some accidental circumstances occasion her to incur a fresh obligation to his humanity and courage. Mrs. Gerrard grounds her machina- tions upon these. She informs Mr. Arnold of the attachment formerly subsisting between

Faulkland and his wife, a circumstance of which

Sidney, from a delicacy of which she severely repents, had forborne to apprize him ; she

misrepresents circumstances ; she avails herself

of accidents ; and, determined wholly to engross

the infatuated Arnold, contrives at length to

make him believe that Sidney and Mr. Faulk-

land have a preconcerted assignation at her

house. The consequences are dreadful ; Ar-

nold, who had long been grown unkind and

neglectful becomes furious. Entangled with MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 149

Mrs. Gerrard, and anxious for a pretext to rid

himself of the unhappy wife whom he has injured, he departs from South Park, leaving a

cruel letter, acquainting her that he will never

return till she has left it. His children, he

determines, shall remain with him. In this

crisis fate, of her Sidney has but one refuge ;

but that one is ever open to her—the arms of her fond though mistaken mother. With agonies

such as only a faithful wife and fond parent can

conceive, she takes a despairing leave of her

little ones, and, an exile from her husband's

house, seeks the asylum of her mother's pro-

tection in London. The meeting between her

and Lady Biddulph is most affecting.

*' I found my mother at the house in St.

James's Street, where I now am : my letter

had thrown her into agonies from which she had

not yet recovered. * What have you written

to me ?' said she, as she held me in her arms,

* your dreadful letter has almost killed me.

Sure, sure, my dear child, it cannot be true that L 3 :

150 MEMOIRS OF

you have left your husband? What is the

cause ? What have you done ! or what has he

done ?' I begged my mother to compose her-

self a little, and then related to her every circumstance.

" Her lamentations pierced my heart. She wrung her hands in bitterness of anguish

' Why did not the grave hide me,' said she,

' before I saw shame and sorrow heaped upon my

? child I looked to die in peace with you ; you might have lengthened my days for a while, but you cut them off— rny eyes will close in affliction. A wounded spirit who can bear! had you died in your cradle we had both been

happy ; my child would now have been a cherub. An angel you have been in my eyes, and I am punished for it, but that was my crime,

not yours ; you are a martyr to the crimes of others.'

** My mother wept not all this time. I wished she had. Her passionate looks and tones affected me more than tears could have done. My MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 151 eyes began to run over—hers soon accompanied me, and it a little relieved the vehemence of our grief."

All this time the author has not forgot Faulk- land—Faulkland, the darling hero of her pen and of the hero's mind, who never for a moment loses the interest he first inspired as Sidney's be- trothed, her " ever-destined husband." Divided by untoward circumstances from the only object of his choice, his love (though concealed never subdued) thenceforward assumed a higher character : and he watches over the woman he still adores with the disinterested zeal of a guardian spirit. Overwhelmed with indignation at seeing the innocent and beloved Sidney an exile from her husband's house, and deprived of reputa-

tion, domestic happiness, every thing that is most valuable to woman, his anguish increased by the consideration that he himself is the al-

leged, though unoffending cause, he determines

to make one last effort to open the eyes of the

infatuated Arnold ; but tlie manner in which

he executes this phm is such as could only be

L 4 152 MEMOIRS OF conceived by a mind equally determined, daring, and romantic. We have already said that Mrs.

Gerrard was well known to him, and that her calumnies against him and Sidney, were only one of a series of crimes which loudly called for retribution. But how does Faulkland inflict it?—Sidney (Mrs. Arnold) is the secret object, the end and motive of every action and every sacrifice, suggested by his pure and hopeless passion, to the generous Faulkland. Her esteem he had as yet possessed, in the loss of every ten-

derer sentiment : but even this last stake appears to him cheap in comparison with restoring her

to happiness ; and, in order to separate Arnold from Mrs. Gerrard, and thus pave the way to his reunion with a deserving wife, Faulkland ventures to appear for a moment in her eyes in a light the most foreign to his real character.

Two miserable months had passed away, and

Mr. Arnold was in town on account of a lawsuit, but so far from seeking his wife, was momen- tarily expecting to be joined by his base companion, when Sidney was aroused from the stupor of MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 155 grief, by the amazing intelligence (conveyed in a letter from Lady V— ) that Mrs. Gerrard had eloped from the neighbourhood of South Park,

and that Mr. Faulkland was the companion of

her elopement ! A ray of consolation breaks in upon Sidney. That Mrs. Gerrard should, after

half ruining Arnold, treat him with this undis-

sembled perfidy, will, she trusts have the effect

of opening his eyes to his former folly ; and that

Mr. Faulkland should be the person she elopes

with, will more than any thing, she hopes, tend

to convince him of the futility of his sus-

picions with regard to herself. Lady Biddulph

triumphs in her superior discernment, in having

always pronounced Mr. Faulkland to be a man

of immoral character ; while. Sir George, who

never wavered in his undeviating friendship to

him, acknowledges himself confounded, and is

obliged to confess it is " the strangest thing he

ever knew in his life."

That Sidney could not wholly withdraw her

esteem from Orlando Faulkland without a pang,

we may infer from the pleasure with which she —

1,54 MEMOIRS OF

receives his justification, which she communi-

cates in the following manner to her Cecilia :

** I have been almost asleep, my dear Cecilia,

for this week past, but I have been roused this morning in a most extraordinary manner. Sir

George called on us. He ran up stairs in a violent hurry, and had a countenance when he entered the room which spoke wonders.

" In short he came to communicate a packet from Faulkland, (now on the other side of the

channel) explaining the real springs of his extraordinary action. The following passages will sufficiently elucidate it.

" Boulogne.

" I am in haste, my dear Biddulph, to vindicate myself to you, but in much more haste to

do so to Mrs. Arnold, who, if she bestows a thought at all on me, must, I am sure, hold me in the utmost contempt ; and great reason would she have if things were always as they appear. Methinks I see her " beautiful scorn,'*

at hearing I had carried off Mrs. Gerrard ; and yet I have carried her of}', and she is now —

iMRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 155

in my possession, not displeased with her situ-

ation. But I assure you, Sir George, I have no

designs but what are for the good both of her soul and body, and I have hitherto treated her like a vestal. What a paradox is here, say you.

Have patience 'till I tell you the story of my knight errantry.

" You are to know then that as Arnold's amour with Mrs. Gerrard was no secret at V

Hall, from the moment I heard it I meditated a design of breaking; the detestable union : not out of regard either to him or her, but in hopes of restoring to the most amiable of women a besotted husband's heart, of which nothing but downright magic, infernal witchcraft, could have robbed her. The woman is handsome, 'tis

true ; but she is a silly toad, and as fantastic as an ape. I had formed this design, I say, and in

consequence resolved to renew my acquaintance with Mrs. Gerrard ; for I liad known her before, —known her to my cost. She it was, this

identical devil, whom I have now in my power,

that was the cause of Miss Burchell's misfor- 156 MEMOIRS OF tune, and therefore the remote cause of my losing Miss Biddulph. Had it not been for her,

I should never have had the fall of that unhappy girl to answer for. I do not rank this affair in the number of capital crimes, yet I never think of it without a pang.

" I meant to carry Mrs. Gerrard away with the appearance of her own consent, and knew this was impossible while her lover remained so near her. I had formed but a rough sketch of my plan when I received your letter, which summoned me to Sidney Castle, and resolved not to apprize you of it till the enterprize was crowned with success.

" On my return from visiting you, the first news I heard at V— Hall was, that Mr. Arnold and his lady were parted. I cursed my own dilatoriness that I had not executed my plan before things were brought to such extremities, for I well knew it was that artful fiend who had occasioned it, though I then little thought how fatally I had contributed towards the misfortunes of the most amiable and respectable of women. — I^

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 157

** Lady V told me that your sister, having discovered her husband's infidelity, had left him on that account ; but my lord soon let me into the whole secret. Oh ! Sir George—that angel, who deserved the first monarch in the universe, to be cast off by an undiscerning dolt! and I, though innocently, the accursed cause. I cannot think with patience of what the divine creature has suffered on my account ; but was it not all from the beginning owing to Mrs.

Gerrard, that avenging fury, sent on earth as a scourge for the sins of me and my ancestors ! — rave—but no wonder. I am mad upon that subject."

In the history of this elopement, sans amour an elopement which has no parallel in any other

novel, the author has availed herself of her un-

common powers of wit and humour to enliven

and diversify her narrative.

After an enumeration of all the measures he

had taken, and the springs he had set in motion,

to ensure complete success to his designs, de-

signs which are conducted with consummate :

158 MEMOIRS OF

art and ingenuity, Faulkland describes the man-

ner in which he accomplished the accompanying

Mrs. Gerrard, with her own consent, from a ball,

and thus continues : " Our ball was very well conducted ; I danced

with Mrs. Gerrard, and we passed a very agree-

able evening.

" Mrs. Gerrard was one of the first that

offered to go."

Her servants, (with some contrivance on the

part of Faulkland,) were found so intoxicated

they could not attend her.

" In this emergency nothing was more natural than to offer my servants to attend her home, and of course to wait on her myself to see her safe. She readily accepted the first offer, but declined the other. This was easily got over

I handed her into her chariot, and stepped in after her."

He then relates the arrangements he had made to secure her completely in his power, and thus

proceeds : MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 159

" Mrs. Gerrard was not immediately aware of our going out of the road ; she was in high spirits, and I kept her in chat. As soon as she perceived it she cried out with some surprise,

* Lord, Mr. Faulkland ! where is the fellow carrying us ? he has missed his way.* She called to him, but the coachman, who had orders not to stop unless I spoke to him, only drove the faster. ' Pray do call to him,' said she. I told her there was no possibility of turning in the narrow road in which we then were ; that when we got out of it, I would speak to the coach-

man ; and begged her in the meanwhile not to be frightened. The lane was a very long one, but our rapid wheels soon carried us to the end of it ; where I had appointed Pivet and one of my footmen to meet us on horseback.

" At the siglit of two horsemen, who were apparently waiting for us, she screamed out,

* Oh ! the villain, he has brought us here to be robbed.' She had a good many jewels on her, and, to say the truth, had some reason for her fears. 160 MEMOIRS OF

" I saw she was heartily frightened, and thought it time to undeceive her. I was not iUnatured enough to keep her longer under the

'apprehensions of highwaymen ; and thought she would be less shocked at finding there was a design upon her person, than on her diamond ear- rings. ' Now,' said I, taking one of her hands

with rather more freedom than respect, ' since we are out of all danger of discovery, or any

;' possibility of pursuit, I will tell you a secret and I spoke with an easy assured tone. She — drew her hand away, ' What do you mean,

Sir ?'

" * Nothing, madam, but to have the pleasure

of your company in a little trip I am going to

take. Believe me, you are not in the least dan-

ger : you are under my protection. Those are

my servants that you see riding with us ; and you may judge of the value I set upon you by the pains I have taken to get you into my possession.' " 'Lord, Mr. Faulkland ! why sure you can't

be serious?' ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. l6l

" ' Never more so in my life, madam. I have long had a design upon you, but your connexion with Mr. Arnold—*

" * My connexion with Mr. Arnold, Sir !' in-"

' terrupting me) ; I don't understand you.*

" * Come, come, Mrs. Gerrard ; you and I are old acquaintance, you know ; tis no time for dissembling.*

" The lady had now recovered her courage she was no longer in fear of being robbed, and her spirits returned.

" * You audacious creature ! — how dare you treat me thus ? Have you the assurance to insinuate that there was any thing criminal in my attachment to Mr. Arnold and his family ?'

" * My dear madam, I accuse you of no attach-

ment to any of his family ; he himself was the only favoured person.*

" * Sure there never was such an impertinent

wretch ! But I know the author of this scandal : it was Mrs. ,' (and she dared to pro-

* fane your sister*s honoured name) ; but I de- M ;

16^ M E M O I R S O F

spise her ; and Mr. Arnold shall soon know how

I have been affronted ;' — and she fell a crying.

*' * My dear Mrs. Gerrard, I beg your pardon

I did not mean to offend you. If Mr. Arnold admired you, he did no more than what every man does who sees you. I beseech you to compose yourself: by all that is good I mean you no harm ; —be calm, I conjure you ; and don't spoil the prettiest face in England with crying.'

" * A daring, provoking creature 1' — she sob- bed. ' What could put such an attempt as this into your head—and to what place are you carrying me ?'

" * Only to France, my dear creature ; have you ever been there ?'

*' ' !' To France, to France —she exclaimed ;

* and do you dare to think you shall carry me there ?'

" « Oh ! you'll like it of all things,' said I,

* when you get there.*

" What do you think her reply was ? Why, neither more nor less than a good box on the ear. I caught hold of her hand, and kissed it. — —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 163

" * You charming vixen, how I admire you for your spirit !* She endeavoured to wrest her hands from me, but I held them both fast for fear of another blow.

*' * Base, insolent villain !*

" As she rose in her epithets I replied with

* Lovely, charming, adorable, tender, gentle

creature.* She cried again : but they were spiteful tears, and did not create in me the least touch of that pity, to which, on any other occasion, they might have moved me.' '* Sidney

Bidduljihj Vol. II.

There is much comic spirit and humour in

this narrative and dialogue ; and some of Faulk- land's repartees are excellent.

Having sent home Mrs. Gerrard's chariot at the first baiting place, which belonged to people devoted to Faulkland's orders, the rest of the journey was performed in Faulkland's travelling carriage, until they reached an inn near Roches- ter, where Faulkland had prepared an agreeable

surprise for her ; this was no other than the attendance of her woman, Mrs. Rachael, with all M 2 164 MEMOIRS OF

the jewels and valuables the lady had left behind.

In order to make Mrs. Gerrard's departure appear to have been witli her own consent, Mr.

Faulkland had called at Ashby on the evening

of the ball, and told the damsel (unknown to

her mistress) that her lady was to go off with

him that night ; that the thing had, for certain

reasons, not been determined on till that very

evening ; and that he had just snatched a mi-

nute, to desire her to get all her lady's trinkets

together, and whatever money and bills she had

in her escrutoire. In order for this he gave her

a parcel of small keys, which he had in his

pocket for the purpose. Whether any of the

keys he gave her would fit the locks (he adds

with his characteristic humour) he was not

much concerned. If they did not, he concluded,

she would think her mistress had made a mis-

take, and force them open rather than fail.

The mutual surprise of Rachael and Mrs.

Gerrard at meeting is well described.

" The chariot drove into the court-yard close

to the door of the inn. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. lG5

" We both darted into the house ; dressed as

we were for a ball, we made an odd appearance

as travellers at that hour in the morning.

" I inquired for Mrs. Gerrard's maid, and

was carried into the room where she was. I

desired her to lay out her lady's toilette, for that

Mrs. Gerrard would presently put herself in a

proper habit for travelling. I saw a vast heap

of things lying unpacked on a bed which was in

the room, and asked her how she had managed

so cleverly as to get such a number of things

together without observation. She told me she

had lost no time, from the minute I left her till

the arrival of her guide ; she had huddled her

lady's clothes into a large portmanteau ; after

which she went to examine her lady's escrutoire, but was a long time puzzled in endeavouring to open it ; as none of the keys I had given her answered, she endeavoured to force it open with as little noise as possible, but in vain. She tlien had recourse to a second trial of the keys, when one of them, whicli probably had been passed

i\i 3 166 MEMOIRS OF by before, luckily opened the lock, and she had

secured all the money slie could find.

" Mrs. Gerrard's astonishment at the sight of

her maid was past description.

*' Rachael! in a tone of admiration— Rachael,

who did not think there was any thing unex-

pected or extraordinary in their meeting, quite

at a loss to guess at what her mistress wondered,

answered in her turn, with some surprise, * Ma-

dam !*—and waited, expecting she would give

her some orders ; which, finding the lady did

not, the maid asked her very composedly, would

she please to undress. ' I hope, madam,' said

I, stepping forward, * that Mrs. Rachael has

taken care to bring you every thing you may

have occasion for ; I shall leave you in her — hands, and wish you a good repose.* ' Strange,

astonishing creature !* said Mrs. Gerrard, look-

ing at me with less anger than surprise ; I

bowed and left the room."

The narrative, which is broken into two parts,

closes with the safe arrival of the travellers at

Boulogne. A second packet informs Sidney MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. I67 and Sir George of Faulkland*s happy accom- plishment of the most difficult part of his task, the inducing Mrs. Gerrard to write to Arnold a letter of his dictating, disavowing her calumnies, and renouncing all further correspondence with him. The gradual steps by which he leads this selfish and artful jilt to the point he so much desired, though too long for insertion, are described with consummate skill. Mrs.

Gerrard takes up the idea that no motive but love could have prompted Faulkland's extra-

ordinary proceeding ; and, infatuated by vanity, believes that if she consents with a good grace to give up Arnold, he will be induced to make her his wife. In order to further this plan, she tells him a hypocritical story of the distress in which she was left at the death of her husband

Captain Gerrard ; of her ignorance when she first received his addresses in (which was town) ; that Arnold was a married man; of the reluctance with which she suffered ills profusion,

&c. &c. ; for he had furnished her liouse at

Ashby, and insisted on her keeping a chariot. 168 MEMOIRS OF

She professes her contrition for her past conduct, and her good resolutions for the future.

Faulkland lets her go on in this manner, little suspecting she is furthering his plan when she

intends to promote her own ; and when he has at length brought her to the point of acknow- ledging her wrongs to Mrs. Arnold and him-

self, he tells her, that if she is in earnest in her

desire to repair them, she can offer no objec-

tion to the letter he proposes. The scene of

dictating the letter, — the remarks of Faulkland interspersed, —the affected generosity, and real

sordid avarice and meanness, of this base and

unprincipled woman,—all these circumstances

are given with a comic force, as genuine as any

to be met with. Orlando thus describes it.

" She took the pen in her hand, but seemed

irresolute, and at a loss how to begin. * Come,

madam,' said I, ' and confute by your own ex-

ample, the received but erroneous opinion, that

if a woman once strays from the paths of virtue

she never returns to them.'

" ' A false and ill-grounded opinion indeed,' MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. l69 said she, lifting up her prophane eyes, as in penitence. * What am I to say ?'—You are to observe that my notes as she went along, wliile

I dictated, are put between hooks.

" THE LETTER.

" (Begin.) * Dear Sir,' — (for I would be neither too familiar nor too cold,) * The terms on which you and I have lived, entitle you to an explanation of my reasons for leaving you so abruptly ; and I hope the generosity of my motive, will incline you to overlook the seeming unkindness of the action.*

" (This you may assure yourself it will when

he comes to consider coolly.)

" ' The unhappiness that I occasioned in your

family, by causing the separation of you and

your wife, has, for a long time, been a thorn in

my heart : and the more so, as, besides the rob-

bing her of your affections, I own, and take

shame to myself in the confession,' (how noble

must he think this confession !) ' that those ;

170 MEMOIRS OF aspersions which I threw on her, had not the least foundation in trutli.'

" (This is truly great.)

*' ' I always believed her perfectly innocent but if I could have had the least possible doubt of it before, I must be now confirmed in that opinion by Mr. Faulkland, who can have no reason for excusing or palliating facts of this nature from me at present.'

" (Here she added of herself, repeating it first aloud to me :)

" * And I think the preference he has given

me to her now, in her state of separation, is a

convincing proof of this.* " (An admirable argument !) (Her vanity would not let her slip this observation.)

" (Proceed, madam.)

** * The true reason of my insinuations against her, were no other than that I could not bear to share your affections with any body.'

" (And a very sufficient reason too, which a man that loves can easily forgive.)

" * I knew that so long as she gave you no :

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. I7I cause of complaint, you were too just to withdraw your whole heart from her, and nothing but the whole would content me.*

" (Still you see you shew a great mind.)

** * * True,* said she, going on : but my reason for leaving him without apprizing him of it, what are we to say for that ?* " (Oh ! nothing more easy to execute : he will admire you the more for the reason I shall give Come.)

*• ' My departing without first making you acquainted with my design, and going off with another person, may, at first sight, seem very strange : but, to tell you the real state of my heart, I found I could not trust to its firmness on the subject of parting with you. I loved you so, that it was with pain and grief I made

the resolution ; and I knew too well that had you used any arguments, which to be sure you would have done, to dissuade me, I, like an easy fool, would have given up all my good designs.* '

172 MEMOIRSOF

" (I am only afraid this will make him love you more than ever.) " (She smiled, as she continued— to write.) " * As for the other article

" (This I was more puzzled to excuse than the

* first ; but, putting on a bold face I said, Ma- dam, I hope you will not condemn me here, while you excuse yourself. The saying you were run axicay rvith, will knock all the rest on the head, and he may chuse whether he will believe that you really intended to break off with him or not ; therefore that particular had better not be touched upon.' * Well,* said she,

* get me out of this scrape as cleverly as you — — brought me into it' ' Fear not,' said I ' go on').

" * As for the other article, though I shall never love Mr. Faulkland as I have done you,

yet in him I have found a protector ; and through his means 1 hope to pass the remainder of my life, in a manner more suitable to a woman of a generous way of thinking, than one wherein she considered herself as encroach- —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. I7S ing upon the rights of another. I hope by this sacrifice, which I have made of my love to a more heroic principle, that I shall expiate my former offence ; and that you will follow my example so far as to make what reparation you can to the woman we have both injured.' " (How this must exalt you in his opinion !)

" * I think it must,' cried she, bridling up her head, as if they were really her own sentiments.

* I believe,' said I, * this is all that is necessary to be said: you may add in a postscript, that as he furnished the house for you at Ashby, every

thing in it is at his service ; together with your chariot and horses, which were also his gifts.

She demurred to this ; and in the midst of her heroics said, I wish I could get somebody to sell them for me privately, and remit the money to me : for since I mn here, I should like to see a little more of France before I return.' I told her that would look mean, and below a great " mind.' ' Well,' said she, * let them go.'

The dreadful moment of eclaircissement ap- 174 . MEMOIRSOF proached. How to extricate himself out of the difficulties in which he had involved himself for Mrs. Arnold's sake, was now to be the consideration of Faulkland. To prevent Mrs.

Gerrard's return to England, where she would have again blown up the flames of discord, and to ensure to her an honourable and comfortable independence in the foreign country to which he had transported her, were the two points most strongly suggested to the prudence and generosity of Faulkland. Every thing short of the " sacrifice of himself," as he expressed it, he was willing to undertake for the be-

nefit of Mrs. Arnold ; but nothing less than the devotion of his life would, in Mrs.

Gerrard's opinion, make amends for the con- cessions to which he had persuaded her ; and though she was so thoroughly known to him, and thougli he had never deceived her by any serious professions of love, her vanity made her believe a marriage with him was an event likely to take place. It became necessary to keep her MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 17^

no longer in ignorance of his final intentions ; and the explanation is conducted, on both sides, with truly dramatic effect.

Having made Mrs. Gerrard seal and despatch her letter, Faulkland continues :

" You will think, perhaps, that as I have managed it, I have really given her a sort of merit with Arnold, in the acknowledgment of her faults, and the pretended reason she gives for leaving him. No such thing. Sir Geerge.

Arnold is a man of too much sense, and knows the world too well to be so deceived. All her professions must go for nothing, when facts are against her. It is plain she went off with another man, and to all appearances premeditately, as her maid and her riches bore her company.

It is also plain by her own confession that this man stands well with her. As for her recanting her injurious aspersions on poor Mrs. Arnold,

*tis the only circumstance in her letter likely to gain belief; and for the rest, to any one of common understanding, who lays circumstances together, it will appear as I intended it should, ;

176 MEMOIRS OF

the contrivance of an artful jilt ; who, having almost ruined the wretch she had in her power, would afterwards make a merit of deserting him.

" I pity him from my heart in his present situation : for it will be some time before he will be sensible of the good I have done him and I dare swear the man is at this time so ungrateful, that, if he could, he would cut my throat. I do not want him to know the extent

of his obligations to me : I shall be satisfied to sit down in the contemplation of my meritorious actions, without enjoying the fame of them.

This greatness of mind I learnt of Mrs. Ger- rard."—

There is a fine sarcasm in that last sentence.

" The having gained my material point put me into high spirits. I praised Mrs. Gerrard for the part she had acted, though I very much feared she would repent of it when we came to explanations, which I resolved should be on that very day. I told her I hoped she would MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. I77

oblige me mth her company at dinner. She

consented with a bow.

" I never saw Mrs. Gerrard so agreeable as she was during dinner— she was in high spirits and good humour. I ahuost thought it a pity to let her down that day : but I considered the longer her expectations were kept up, the greater would be her disappointment, and determined to put her out of doubt.

*' I had been told Mrs. Gerrard was no enemy to a cheerful glass, but observed that she drank nothing but wine and water made very weak. This I was afraid would not be sufficient to keep up her courage under what I intended to say to her. I pretended to be disposed to drink, and insisted on her helping me out with a flask of burgundy. With affected coyness

she suffered me to fill her glass ; the second

offer I made, her resistance was less ; the third she made no objection to at all ; and the fourth she filled for herself I thought her now a match for what I had to say.

'* 1 had made the glass pass briskly, and had

N 178 MEMOIRS OF filled up the intervals with singing catches and rattling on any subject that came into my head.

" Mrs. Gerrard seemed to grow a little out of humour at my levity. I foimd the burgundy had been quite thrown away upon her : she was silent for a few minutes, and seemed to be considering of something. At last she opened, and I will give you the conversation that passed between us.

" Mrs. G. ' Mr. Faulkland, it is time that you and I should understand one another's meaning a little better than we do at present.

You know very well that you have put an end to all my expectations in England. Indeed, if I were at liberty, I could not have the face to return there again in any character but that of your wife.'

" [I was glad she began first, and that, though I guessed at her views, she had used so little caution in discovering them, as it at once roused in me an indignation which I could not suppress, and without which I could not have brought myself to mortify her as she deserved.] MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 179

" Mr. F. * Ml/ wife. Madam !' (stopping her at that tremendous word,) ' be pleased to tell me if I heard you right ?'

" Mrs. G. * Yes, Sir, it was your wife I said;

I thought. Sir,* (stifling the anger that I saw rising) * that the words w^hich you yourself dictated in the letter which I just now wrote, where you say, * / had in you found a 'protector, by whose mea?is I should be able to pass the rest of my life in a manner more suitable to a woman of a generous way of thhildng, than that wherein she considered herself as encroaching on the rights of another.* —Were not these your own words. Sir?'

" Mr. F. * They were, Madam.* (To say the truth, there was something equivocal in the paragraph, though, when I desired her to write it, this construction never entered into my head.)

" Mrs, G. ' Tlien, Sir, how am I to understand them ?'

" Mr. F. ' I protest, Madam, you have forced N 2 180 MEMOIRS OF a construction, that I never once so much as dreamed of.*

'* * Mrs. G. Sir, you use me very ill ! I did not expect such treatment.*

" Mr. F. ' How, pray, Madam ? Did I ever say I would marry you ?'

** Mrs G. ' No, Sir, but your behaviour has given me room to suppose that such a thing was in your thoughts.*

" Mr. F. * Are you not then the more obliged to me, for treating you with such respect as to make you fancy so ?'

" Mrs. G. * Respect, respect !' (muttering between her teeth) ' Mr. Faulkland :* (and she stood up) * there is not a man in England but yourself, after what I have declared, that would refuse to make me his wife.*

" Mr. F. ' What have you declared, Mrs.

Gerrard ?'

*' Mrs. G. * Why, have I not ingenuously owned my failings, shewn myself sorry for them, quitted them, and made all the reparation in my power?* MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 181

" (I was amazed to see how audaciously she adopted as her own, sentiments which I had suggested to her. It was so Hke her that I could have laughed in her face.)

" Mr. F. * Your behaviour on this occasion has really been worthy of the imitation of all your own sex, and the praise of ours. For a woman volimtarilij to quit an irregular life, and that too from mere motives of conscience^—

" (I paused and sat silent, looking at her and playing with one of the glasses.)

*' Mrs. G. ' Mr. Faulkland, if you are disposed to have done trifling, and will vouchsafe me a serious answer, pray, tell me, are you absolutely determined not to marry me ?'

" Mr. F. * Absolutely.'

" Mrs. G. ' You are not serious, sure ?*

" Mr. F. ' My dear creature, why sure ihou canst not be serious in asking me the question.'

" Mrs. G. ' Sir, I am serious, and expect a serious answer.'

" Mr. F. * Why then, seriously, 1 have no more thoughts of marrying thee, than I have N 3 !

182 MEMOIRS OF of marrying the first Sultana in the Grand

Seignor's seraglio.'

* " Airs. G. Very well, Sir, very well ; I am answered.* (And she rose and walked quickly about the room.)

" We were both silent : she, I suppose, expected that I should propose other terms, and a settlement, and waited to try if I would speak.

I had a mind to tease her a little, and hummed a tune.

*' Mrs. G. (advancing to me and making a low curtesy with a most scornful and sarcastical air)

* May I presume to inquire what your Migh- tiness's pleasure is in regard to me ? Do you intend to keep me for your nurse against your next illness, or intend me for the Grand Seig- nor's harem to wait on the first Sultana ?*

" Mr. F. ' I can't tell.' (Carelessly, and looking another way) ' I have not yet determined which way I shall dispose of you/

' " Mrs. G. Dispose of me ! dispose of me why sure the man has lost his senses !*

** ' Mr. F. Look you, Mrs. Gerrard : we MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 183 will play no longer at cross purposes. Sit down and be calm for a few minutes till you hear what

I have to say.*

** (She did so, with a kind of impatience in her looks.)

" ?* ' How long have you and I been acquainted

" Mrs. G. * Lord, what is that question to the purpose ?'

*' Mr. F. * Only that you may look back, and, upon recollection, ask yourself if you ever had any reason to look upon me as your lover ?'

" Mrs. G. ' I made that observation to you when we were travelling together. What is the use of it now ?'

" Mr. F. ' Did I, in the course of our journey, declare myself to be such, or drop the least hint of devoting myself to you on any condition ?'

" Mrs. G. * We did not talk on the subject at all.'

" Mr. F. ' Did I ever presume on the advantage of having you in my power, to venture

on the smallest liberty with you, or ever deviate N 4 :

184 MEMOIRS OF from that respect in my behaviour, that I was used at all other times to treat you with ?'

" Mrs. G. * I do not say you did, and it was that very behaviour that inclined me to imagine you had other thoughts than those I find you have.*

" Mr\ F. * You drew a wrong conclusion, though it is to be confessed not a very unnatural one.'

" Mrs, G. * Well well,' (peevishly) * I don't understand your riddles— to the point.'

** Mr. F. * Why the point, in short, is this that without any particular designs on your person, my whole view in carrying you out of

England, was to break off your intercourse with " Mr. Arnold.'

This declaration acts like a thunderstroke upon Mrs. Gerrard.

Without heeding the indignation painted in her countenance, Faulkland proceeds briefly to recapitulate the motives that were sufficient, without love, to actuate his conduct. To restore an amiable woman to her family : a wife to : ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 185 her husband, and a mother to her clildren.

To remove the distress of her brother, lis own particular friend, and the anguish of thg aged

Lady Biddulph, almost broken-hearted wth the ill-usage of her child. To clear Mrs. A;nold's character from aspersion, and to open ih eyes of Arnold, with regard to his injustbe to

Faulkland himself. He concludes

*' ' Now, Mrs. Gerrard, lay your hand or.your heart, and answer me if I have not givei you reasons, which, though they may not be ;atis- factory to you, are in themselves of weight " sufficient to justify my conduct.'

The effect of his communication is striling and terrible.

*' All artifice was now at an end, and she un- masked the fiend directly. She started off ler chair with the looks and gestures of a fuy and fixing her eyes (which had really somethiig

diabolical in them at that instant) steadily )n

me, * You wretch !' she cried, with a voice ai-

swerable to her looks, ' you are such a Msi,

dissembling, mean-spirited reptile, that if ycu ;

1 86 M E M O I U S O F had a lingdom to offer me, and would lay yourself at my feet to beg my acceptance of it, I would trample on you like dirt !' —and she stamp

It ii needless minutely to pursue the story furthe'. Necessity, by degrees, subdues that term^ant spirit, and the consideration of her ruinel fortune and demolished reputation, induce Mrs. Gerrard to listen to the overtures of

Faukland, generous even in his vengeance whooffers to ensure to her a comfortable inde- penlence, with a husband of his choosing, if she

will remain in France ; he also proposes to her thealternative ofaconvent, v/hichshe rejects with horor and disdain. The husband is a young mai in Faulkland's suite, who had become enimoured of Mrs. Gerrard' s beauty, notwith- staiding that Faulkland did not conceal fi-om hin her bad qualities. With this young man, wio is enabled by Faulkland's generosity to set ui in business, and make a very handsome set- tfement on her, she at length retires in tolerable

contentment from the scene ; and as she was —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 187

herself of very low origin, the marriage could

neither be considered as a hardship nor a degra-

dation.

The surprise, indignation, grief, and rage of

Mrs. Gerrard, and the sullen submission into which those passions at length subside, are touched with the hand of a master ; and the narrative concludes with Orlando's brief notice, of his having had " the satisfaction of bestowing, with his own hand, that inestimable treasure of virtue and meekness, Mrs. Gerrard, on his faithful squire. Monsieur Pivet, to the no small joy of the latter, and, if the truth were known, to the no great mortification of the former.''

Vol. II.

I have been so copious in my extracts from this part of the story, that it necessarily enjoins brevity in the remainder. It might have been easy to select more striking passages, but Sid- ney Biddulph has had its full praise as a moral and pathetic work ; my object was rather to

prove it was not deficient in spirit and gaiety ; a brief analysis of the rest may suffice, although 188 MEMOIRS OF

the reader must be aware that in a novel per-

fectly well contrived, the under-characters and incidents cannot be sacrificed without " curtail-

ing it" of its ** fair proportion," and injuring the

effect and symmetry of the whole. The well-

contrived, though romantic sclieme of Orlando,

is productive of its full eifect. The letter of the

faithless Gerrard at once opens the eyes of Ar-

recon- nold ; but while he is eagerly desiring a

ciliation with his injured wife, a lawsuit, in which

his whole estate is involved, is decided against

him, and he is left almost a beggar. The scru-

ples he now feels are overcome by the advances

of the tender and generous Sidney ; and they

retire to Lady Biddulph's abode of Sidney-

Castle, with diminished means but increased

affection, where they enjoy a life of the purest

domestic happiness, till the death of Arnold,

who loses his life in consequence of a fall from

his horse in hunting.

The death-bed of the penitent Arnold con-

tains some of the finest strokes of pathetic paint-

ing to be met with in any composition : there — —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 189 is something in the mixtine of linnness and agonizing sorrow of Sidney on that occasion, and in certain traits of her conduct, that will remind the reader of the beautiful character of

Lady Rachel Russell.

After an interval given to this solemn scene of deep affliction, other interests resume their power.

Sidney is again free. Faulkland, the generous

Faulkland, to whom she owes such important obligations, is returned to England, and loves

her still *'with an unparalleled affection." Does

not his constant devotion deserve some reward ?

Her brother pleads, —he pleads for himself,

and Sidney is not insensible to his unequalled

merit ; but the fatal obstacle that prevented

their union before, still exists, in her opinion,

with increased force. Miss Burchell, the un-

happy young woman who was the cause of their

disunion, had been recommended, by the huma-

nity of Faulkland himself, to the countenance

and compassion of Lady Biddulph, on his first

going abroad after his disappointment. Since 190 MEMOIRSOF that time she had won upon the esteem both of the mother and daughter, by her " most seeming virtuous" and modest deportment. She had obtained a proniise from Sidney, to use her influence with Mr. Faulkland in her favour : an infant son preferred a strong claim to his justice and affection. In several letters in answer to

Faulkland's renewed and impassioned declara- tions, Sidney urges these, and many more argu-

ments, in favour of his forsaken mistress ; to which Faulkland still continues to reply, that

Miss Burchell has no right to his voxvs. Hope- less at length of prevailing with her w^ho possesses his heart, he yields to her representations, and determines on deserving and obtaining at least her esteem.

There is a beautiful congeniality in the high tone of mind of Sidney and Orlando. His marriage with Miss Burchell is accomplished,

and he accepts her as the gift of Mrs. Arnold ; accepts the fatal bane of his existence from the hand of the woman he adores.

Disappointed in her early love, wronged by MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. IQl

the man upon whom she had afterwards be-

stowed her dutiful affection, and obliged by the

dictates of lionour, and a too punctilious deli-

cacy, a second time to refuse happiness when offered to her acceptance, Sidney had tasted of

every evil but poverty ; and this, after the death of Lady Biddulph, comes fast upon her. The misfortunes and imprudence of Arnold enabled him to leave her very little. At the death of her mother every thing went to Sir George.

Since he found she had been instrumental in marrying his friend to Miss Curchell, for whom he entertained the strongest contempt, Sir

George had renounced her. At this moment,

Orlando, rejected in her happier days, and now retired with the wife of her choice to his estate in his Ireland, resumes guardian watchfulness ; and through the delicate medium of a female friend, sends her a considerable supply, with an

offer of its continuance ; but Sidney, aware that the lady from whom the offers appear to come, is not in circumstances sufficiently affluent to make such generous donations, suspects the giver, and 192 MEMOIRS OF rejects the gift. The subsequent sufferings to

which she is exposed ; the arrival of Warner, tlie

rich West-Indian ; and the whole episode in which he is concerned, are points of the story so well known, that it would be superfluous to make any further mention of them here. The story of W^arner has been translated into several lan-

guages ; and the comic as well as serious scenes it includes have made it deservedly popular.

Sidney is now in possession of all that wealth

can give ; but the sharpest trial is yet to come.

Many circumstances have conspired to make her

suspect Mrs. Faulkland's unworthiness ; but still the bitterness with wliich her brother speaks of her, appears to her unjust. Being reconciled to

Sir George Biddulph, she takes an opportunity, in private conversation with him, to ask if he has any further cause than she knows of, for his

ill opinion of her ; and Sir George, being thus pressed, makes disclosures so unexpected and extraordinary, that the ill fated Sidney deeply repents the share she had in promoting the marriage of Mr. Faulkland. His catastrophe now —— — ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 19^3

draws near : the conduct of Mrs. Faulkland justifies Sidney's wildest apprehensions. Faulk- land is deceived, dishonoured, and takes justice into his own hands : his life is forfeited to the laws of his country, and he flies to England, to take a last look on he?' who had been the cause of all his sorrows.

Then, in that moment of mutual agony, when with faltering tongue, and looks fastened upon hers, in wistful anguish he whispers the thrilling " demand : What recompense can you make the man whom you have brought to misery, shame, and death ?"—When again, in the impassioned delirium oflove and of frenzy, he at length claims

Sidney as his own,— his chosen, his Irride !— whom no adverse fate shall sever from him more, — all our sympathies are awakened for the sufferings of a being so wronged, so exalted and we are ready to exclaim with Shakespeare, on witnessing a ruin as complete,

" O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!" 194 MEMOIRS OF

Though the distress here seems wrought up to the utmost, the most unexpected and surprising events succeed each other with rapidity ; but to pursue the story any further, even by analysis, would be equally an injustice to the author and the reader. The closing scenes of

Sidney Biddulph must be perused at full length ; as any attempt to extract from them, would too

much injure their beauty and pathos : and wherever they have been read, they have met with the most unequivocal testimony to their truth and interest, — breathless attention, and involuntary tears. —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 195

CHAPTER VI.

Mrs. Sheridan in London. —Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson. Samuel Richardson.— Mrs. Peckhard Colloquial powers of Mrs. Sheridan.— Learning. — Description of the person of Mrs. Sheridan. -Anecdotes.— Habits of self-control. Love of Truth. — Anecdote. — Second removal to Wind- sor. - Windsor Anecdotes. — " The Discovery." — Exami-

nation of a passage in Dr.Watkins relative to Garrick and " The Discovery."— Friendly disposition of Mrs. Sheridan. — Mr. Armstrong.— Humorous competition between " The Discovery" and " The Duenna." — Whimsical conduct of Mrs. Cholmondely.— Critique on the Comedy.

I HAVE now touched upon the prmcipal points of the first part of " Memoirs of Miss Sidney

Biddulph." It was pubHshed originally in three volumes. The second part, which did not come out until after ?vlrs. Sheridan's decease, introduces many new characters, and may in a great measure be denominated a new work. It shall be noticed in its proper place.

At this time, Dr. Johnson was a frequent visitor at Mr. Sheridan's, when he was in

London, and used to fondle the children in his

ri 9. 196 MEMOIRS OF

rough way ; who might, so far, boast of having been " elevees sur les genoiLv des philosophes."

Observing that Mrs. Sheridan's eldest daughter* already began to give signs of that love of literature for which she was afterwards distinguished, and that she was very attentively employed in reading his " Ramblers," her mother hastened to assure Dr. Johnson it was only works of that unexceptionable description which she suffered to meet the eyes of her little girl. " In general," added Mrs. Sheridan, ** I am very careful to keep from her all such books as are not calculated, by their moral tendency, expressly for the perusal of youth."

*' Then you are a fool, madam !" vociferated the Doctor. " Turn your daughter loose into

your library ; if she is well inclined, she will

choose only nutritious food ; if otherwise, all your precautions will avail nothing to prevent her following the natural bent of her incli-

nations."

* Afterwards married to Joseph Lefanu, Esq., of

Dublin. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 197

This injudicious and dangerous extension of

the maxim, " aiuv sains tout est sain.,''* in a man of Dr. Johnson's acknowledged morality, can only be accounted for, by the peculiarity at-

tributed to him by his friend and biographer

Mr. Boswell, that of liking to " take down" a person by unexpected censure, in the moment

of complacency and self-approbation : other-

wise, both his sense of what was right, and his

habitual admiration of Mrs. Sheridan's judg-

ment, must have prevented the rude reproof:

as the practice of indiscriminate reading might

assuredly introduce the young mind to an ac-

quaintance with the most blameable examples,

and immoral precepts, while yet unaware that any danger was incurred.

Another favourite guest was the novelist, Samuel Richardson. Ke was not only an im-

proving, but, occasionally, a very agreeable companion. Like most persons of genius, how-

ever, his spirits were unequal.

Mr. Sheridan has sometimes called, and found

poor Richardson (to use his own expression)

o 3 198 MEMOIRS OF dull " as a drowning fly," and vainly struggling with the oppressive weight of melancholy that oppressed him. On those occasions, the best way to rouse his spirits was to divert his attention from the unpleasant object that might happen to engross it. When this was judiciously effected, Richardson would gradually become animated, cast off his mantle of gloom, and display in his conversation all the whim, point, and humour that guided his pen, when pour- traying a Lovelace, or a Charlotte Grandison.

The ingenious Mrs. Peckhard, wife to the celebrated dissenting minister of that name, was also often of these parties. Mr. Peckhard is well known as the author of several polemical tracts. The name of Mrs. Peckhard frequently occurs in the " Correspondence" of Samuel

Richardson, Her talents for conversation were considerable. One bon-mot of hers, uttered in the playfulness of unrestrained domestic intercourse, proves her to have been a scholar as well as a wit.

One of Mr. Sheridan's daughters being a MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 199 florid, chubby child, had obtained in the family the name of '* Libs ;" because, like one of the winds thus classically denominated, she had cheeks remarkably full and glowing.

One evening, that the assembled company were engaged in some serious literary disqui- sition, and that tiie child, with the weariness incidental to her age, was impatiently enduring their neglect, and the absence of those little fond attentions to which she had been accustomed, Mrs. Peckhard suddenly terminated a conversation which must have been utterly un- intelligible to the infant listener, by gaily exclaiming, " Come, don't let us be so austere, or Libs wo'n't note us." Thus, in one short, and apparently familiar English sentence, in- cluding the Latin names of the three winds,

Auster, Libs, and Notos. This whimsical adaptation of classical words to a modern sense, was admired by Mr. Sheridan as a remarkably happy impromptu.

But for playful gaiety, for solid sense, for every different charm of conversation, none

o 4 200 MEMOIRS OF approached to the degree of perfection possessed by Mrs. Sheridan.

That she was more celebrated for colloquial powers than even for her literary talents, the opinion of numerous departed friends, and of one illustrious living witness,* bear ample tes-

timony : yet, in what that peculiar charm of conversation consisted, that attraction by which

Mrs. Sheridan, without beauty, fascinated and delighted minds of the most opposite textures, it is difficult at this distance of time to determine. The same woman, whose powers of mind were approved and admired by Johnson, and

Johnson's great successor in the critical chair, was often also mentioned to her children in terms of regret and feeling, by some of the gayest and most dissipated men of the age, but who had yet sufficient taste to relish her society and court her conversation.

Perhaps Mr. Boswell may help us to a solu- lution of this difficulty. He says, " Mrs. She-

* The very learned Dr. Samuel Parr. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 201 ridan was a most agreeable companiai to an intellectual man. She was sensible, ingenious, unassuming, yet communicative." Now,though this sentence, at a first glance, may appear to contain but measured praise, it ,vill be found, upon examination of the four aialities enumerated, to include all the principal ingre- dients that render conversation delightlil. A knowledge of books and of the world, ningled

in just proportions ; wit, regulated aid res- trained by a temper and manners of shgular

mildness ; a total exemption from affecation,

pedantry, and literary pretension ; and thcglow of a kind heart, and a communicative dspo- sition pervading every expression, and diflising its harmonizing richness over the whole.

That learning is not necessarily a barto a lady's agreeableness is evident, as Mrs.She- ridan loved and studied the classics, anchas particularly left in " Sidney Biddulph,'* ame- morial of her attachment to Horace.

The " enfranchisement " of her faithful ler- vant, " witli a sort of merry ceremony,' so 202 MEMOIRS OF agreeaby described towards the close of the book, dso shows a mind familiar with classical ideas ; 3ut these are the only two instances that

I remenber in which they recur : and when we compaE this temperate use of her treasures, with tie laborious trifling so painfully con- spicuois in some modern learned females, we may leuii to appreciate her modest self-denial.

To a ^ecies of reading the very reverse of the

classiol, yet one which has almost alw^ays pos-

sesseda charm for persons of genius, Mrs. Sheri-

dan aso appears to have been addicted— I mean

the od romances.

Hr views of life were justly conceived, and

exprssed with forcible simplicity. Who that has

kno'^n distress but must subscribe with his whole

hear to the justice of the following sentence ?

"Oh, my friend, these are the stings of

povrty ! It is not the hard bed, nor the

horely board, but the oppressive insolence of

prad prosperity: 'tis that only which can

inflct a wound on the ingenuous mind."*

* Sidney Biddulpli, vol. iii. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 203

Her knowledge of the gay and bnsy world

was extensive : though from the distance of time, and the early age of her children, when she died, I am enabled to select but a few names from among the number of her acquaintance.

It is certain that she had seen life under a great

variety of aspects ; and her works bear testimony that her powers of selection were not inferior to the opportunities afforded her for observation. The mode of intercourse subsisting formerly, when friends assembled in small knots, really to enjoy the pleasure of each other's society, was certainly more favourable to the developement of mental graces, than those crowds in which all distinction of character and sentiment must be lost. Add to this, that she had in her husband's society, the opportunity of constant intercourse with an accomplished mind, and even supposing her various avocations did not leave Mrs. Sheridan a great deal of leisure for reading, she must have acquired, both in her domestic circle and from the conversation of her guests, a correctness of judgment. 204 MEMOIRS OF and delicacy of taste, without the danger of contracting either that reserved or that pedantic manner, the mingled result of timidity and pride, which is too often, in a woman, the consequence of solitary study.

Mrs. Sheridan, though not strictly handsome, had a countenance extremely interesting. Her eyes were remarkably fine and very dark, cor- responding with the colour of her hair, which was black. Her figure would have been good, but for an accident that happened when she was an infant, by which she contracted a lameness that prevented her from going to any distance without support. This, by taking pains, she

could disguise in walking a short way : but if she attempted more, it was perceptible. The fairness and beauty of her bust, neck, and arms, were allowed to have seldom been rivalled.

The hand and arm has been copied by a painter, who whimsically requested that she would allow

him to make them his model in a full-length por-

trait of a lady who did not, in that respect, possess the advantage of beauty in so high a degree. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 205

Another anecdote is remembered of Mrs. She- ridan's going up from Windsor in a pubUc coach, in which was a gentleman with whom she was unacquainted. After some time, Mrs. Sheridan, who, Hke most ladies of that period, took snuff, drew off her glove to take a pinch. The stranger, smiling, observed, " There are few ladies. Madam, who would have concealed such a hand and arm so long !"

In her dress, Mrs. Sheridan, though never affecting the studious negligence of the literary ladies of her day, was certainly rather inclined to simplicity than show. Although the portrait represents her without any head dress, she most usually wore a cap of a grave and ma- tronly form. Her gowns, which were invariably of silk, were always made up in the form of negligees, on account of the accident in her shape.

Her love of plainness and grave colours a little exceeding what her husband thought ne-

cessary for lier time of life, Mr. Sheridan took

the following method to correct it. 206 MEMOIRS OF

As Mrs. Sheridan was reading by the fire, in

a gown of dark brown silk, a colour he particu-

larly detested, a hot coal fell, unobserved by

her, upon the train. It must be remembered

that the substantial silks then worn by the

ladies were not in danger of blazing up sud-

denly, and communicating the flame to the

person : Mr. Sheridan, therefore, quietly let the

coal moulder on, till it had burnt a hole in the

train sufficiently large to render the favourite

brown dress unfit for future service; and then, for the first time, called her attention to it by saying,

*' My dear, don't you see your gown's on fire !'*

—These notices, however trifling, will, I trust, not be deemed impertinent, as contributing to

complete the portrait of a woman, at once of an

amiable and exemplary character. Nothing is now

w^antingto complete this picture, but a more copious selection than has yet appeared of her cor-

respondence ; but I have not been able to pro-

cure any manuscript letters, her family having

unfortunately not preserved them ; and from

those that have been published I am sparing in MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 207 my choice, selecting only such passages as bear undoubted proofs of having been suggested by

Mrs. Sheridan's genuine feelings. For this I

have two reasons : I do not wish to fatigue the reader with the same passages over again, that have been given in the '* Memoirs of R. B.

Sheridan ;" and I have no means of ascertaining whether, in the " Miscellany," in which they were originally published without the permission, and against the wish of her family, they may not have been subjected both to omissions and interpolations.

Though often a sufferer in her health, Mrs. Sheridan had none of the querulousness of an invalid: on the contrary, her naturally good spirits are seen perpetually breaking forth like sunshine, from the midst of the clouds of sickness and sorrow. A letter, part of which has been already given to the public, concludes with the following pretty playful passage to her protege, Samuel Whyte.

" I am glad to hear you iiave recovered your liealth and spirits, and with them, I ho])e, your :

208 MEMOIRS OF peace of mind. In truth, I believe I have in- verted the order of things here, and have placed

the effects before their cause : be that as it may, I wish them to you altogether, with an additional acquisition of reputation and fortune.

There ! —I think I have put matters to rights,

and given the words their proper places ; for according to the tem^poral order of things, in your way of life, money most assuredly waits on reputation."

Here we see, indeed, the amiable disposition ofmind described by the poet

" The affection warm, the temper mild,

The sweetness that in sorrow smiled !"

Mrs. Sheridan's temper, though excellent from nature, was rendered yet more amiable by long habits of discipline and self-command.

It was, indeed, very warm ; and that was a circumstance this excellent woman did not hesitate often to confess to her children, while incul- cating by example the duty, and illustrating the possibility of keeping the temper under control. aiRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 209

Indeed the best tempers have often been ob-

served to be those which it has cost their owners

many bitter lessons of patience and self-denial

to subdue and regulate ; they are as much to be

preferred to the thoughtless good-nature, origi-

nating merely in a happy frame of the animal

spirits, as every excellence, attained by a due ex-

ertion of the will and energies of the mind, is to

be placed in the scale of rational existence above

the possession of merely natural gifts.

Mrs. Sheridan possessed a very conscientious mind, and the strongest sense of honour. The following paragraph, in answer to the offer of an imparted secret from a male correspondent, contains a maxim that it might be advantageous for

every married woman to follow.

" You told me you would let me know, under seal ofsecresy^ why a certain person inter-

fered so warmly about Mrs. . I should be glad you would explain this. I assure you your information shall be a secret, except to Mr.

Sheridan. A secret delivered to me, viva voccy

might be lodged safely within my own breast j

p 210 MEMOIRS OF but those communicated by letter hazard a par- ticipation, as I have no correspondence that I do not show.'*

Perhaps a better union of discretion and frank- ness was never exhibited in a female character.

She had an inviolable respect for truth, and such a happy manner of impressing the importance of it upon others, that in her household,

among her children, servants, and tradespeople, it was remarked that those even who practised

disguise and equivocation with others, experienced an unconquerable reluctance to impose upon her. Of this the following anecdote fur- nishes a familiar example. During Mrs. Sheri- dan's residence in London, the man who supplied the family with bread had been wronged by his

boy to a considerable amount ; yet, although he was certain of the fact, upon taxing the youth with it, he could by no means induce him to ac- knowledge it. At length he applied to Mrs.

Sheridan : " If you would have the goodness to speak to him, ma'am," he said, " I am sure he could not persist in his wickedness." MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 211

With this request, dictated no doubt by some

knowledge of her character, Mrs. Sheridan

thought proper to comply. She saw the boy

in private ; and with that happy art of persua-

sion, which, from her earhest youth had been her

study with the young and uneducated, repre-

sented to him the double guilt he incurred.

The culprit could not withstand the impressive goodness, distant alike from sectarian rigidity and worldly carelessness, that distinguished the manner of Mrs. Sheridan—the scrutiny of her mild yet penetrating eye : he made a full con-

fession of his fault ; and when asked why he

had not done so sooner, replied, that *' he had intended to have persisted in his denial to his master, but that he could not tell a lie to Mrs.

Sheridan.'^

The summer of I762 again beheld Mrs. She- ridan at " the favourite place of her inspiration."

" Thy forest, Windsor ! and thy green retreats,

At once the Monarch's, and the Muses' seats,"

proved equally a scene of satisfaction to her-

p 2 21^ MEMOIRS OF self, and of health to her children, whose early recollections were associated with that august and classical spot.

Some of these recollections related to amusing incidents, but which will perhaps appear too trifling in the narration.

With the happy facility peculiar to their years, they had formed an acquaintance with a very old lady who occupied apartments in the palace, and who had been maid of honour to

Queen Anne. This old lady presented the youngest with some relic of ancient finery, that appeared in her eyes very precious, and she was the cause of their making frequent visits to the palace.

The preparations for the arrival of the Royal

Family did not even induce them to discontinue

these visits ; and during the stay of the illustrious party, Charles, Mr. Sheridan's eldest boy,

(in search, it must be supposed, of his old friend) wandered as far as some of the private apartments, and found himself suddenly in the presence of a lady who was playing upon the harp- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAX. 213

sichord ; she smiled with condescending sweetness on the child, and took no other notice of

his intrusion ; which the little culprit afterwards learned was upon Charlotte, the new and amiable sovereign of England.

Another time the heedlessness of the children gave Mr. Sheridan more serious cause of alarm.

The eldest Miss Sheridan, who had been walking in the Park attended by a female servant, came in with an air of uncommon joyousness and elation, to shew her father a prize that she had ordered the girl to carry home. It was the prettiest little beast in the world, she said, that she and her companion had discovered in the Park. Mr. Sheridan, who imagined it to be a little cat or a dog at the utmost, listened

with indifference to this description ; but his dismay was proportionate when he discovered that the prize, which the maid had carried wrapped up in her apron, was nothing less than a fawn from the royal enclosures ! Ihe countenance of Mr. Sheridan, when animated by

surprise or anger, was awful ; antl his eyes

]' ;3 214 M E M 01 R S O F seemed to dart forth sparks of fire. Turning on the trembhng servant one of those looks formed " to threaten and command," his first " words were, Girl ! do you know you might be hanged for this ?" and his next, a peremptory order to return that instant, and replace the fawn in Windsor Park.

The girl, who had never been used to dispute her young lady's supreme commands, was now equally terrified at her master's representation

of the consequence of her compliance : she thought she never could fly too quickly to restore the little sylvan beauty to its native sliades, and returned (with far greater rapidity than she had left it) to the Park. Fortunately the transaction had not been remarked. The sentinel, unaware of the nature of the bundle she still

carried in her apron, suffered her to pass ; and with trembling haste, and the sentence of Mr.

Sheridan still ringing in her ears, to place the fawn upon the spot of grass from which she had so heedlessly taken it.

It was during their excursions to Windsor :

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 215 that the intimacy between Mr. Sheridan's family

and Dr. Robert Sumner took place ; Dr. Sum- ner was then one of the masters of Eton.*

This summer, at Windsor, Mrs. Sheridan formed the plan and sketched the scenes of her first comedy, " The Discovery."

On her return to town, Garrick earnestly requested to see it. Mrs. Sheridan read it to him herself, and he immediately begged it might be put into his hands, and undertook the character of Sir Anthony Branville. Mrs.

Sheridan was now raised to the highest point of

* " He was" (says the Rev. Dr. Samuel Parr) " a thorough judge of moral and intellectual merit. Great was the regard

and the admiration which he felt for Mrs. Frances Sheridan ; and very intimate was the friendship which subsisted between him and her husband."

A little above is added, by the same hand

" I knew her (Mrs. Sheridan), from her general character, from her excellent publications, and from one or two interviews which I had with her at the house of the very learned

Dr. Sumner of Harrow."

" In clearness of intellect, delicacy of taste, and purity of heart, she was one of the first women whom I ever knew."

r 4 '^16 M E ]\I O I R S OF

literary celebrity ; distinguished by the approbation of Richardson, as a novel-writer, and of

Garrick, as a dramatist, the two most flattering distinctions tliat time could boast attended her career.

Dr. Watkins thinks (p. 111—112) this eagerness of Garrick to have the '* Discovery '* put into his hands, an undeniable proof of his

•' liberahty," and *' a complete refutation of all

the idle stories that were told, to the disad-

vantage of Garrick, with regard to his keeping

down Sheridan, out o/" jealousy of his superior

talents."

We have already seen, that if they were

" idle stories," the persons that circulated and

perpetuated them were Garrick's two admirers,

Thomas Davies and Arthur Murphy. As to

the liberality of Garrick, without wishing to

make unnecessary objections, upon a point in

which every one has a right to have his own

opinion, we must be permitted to observe, that

it is not clear where the liberality lay. The

biographer says, we have " the testimony of

Mrs. Sheridan herself," that he was " ac- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 217 tuated '* by a " desire to serve his fiends, and not the mere interests of the Theatn."

The testimony alkided to is in a letter dated

"London, Nov. 29th, I762," andfeginning:

" It was not in revenge that I did aot answer your's of October sooner. The truti is, since my return to town from Windsor, Ihave been much employed, though often interupted by intervals of bad health, which of late have

frequently returned on me. I have, however,

mustered up spirits enough to write—what do

you think ? Why a Comedy ! which s now in

rehearsal at Drury Lane." After moitioning

that she had formed her plan, and nearl} finished

the scenes at Windsor, as above related, Mrs.

Sheridan adds : " Mr. Garrick was pressing to

see it, and accordingly I read it to him myself.

What his opinion of it is you may judgt by his

immediately requesting it to be put iito his

hands, and undertaking to play the secoid cha-

racter, a comic and very original one.

" My first theatrical essay has so fir met

with an almost unprecedented success. Nost of 218 MEMOIRS OF

US poor aithors find a difficulty in getting our

pieces on the stage, and perhaps are obliged

to dangh after managers a season or two : /,

on the ccitrary, was solicited to give miiiet as

soon as itwas seen."

In this and the preceding paragraph, I confess, I c:n see nothing more than the honest

exultatioi, experienced by even the most mo-

dest mini, on its efforts being crowned with success, Jut not a word of gratitude ; in fact, their wai none due. The interest in this case was mutual, and the transaction was therefore

of coujse productive of mutual satisfaction.

Garricl saw, with one glance of his eagle eye, that tvo characters in the comedy (those of

Sir Hirry and Lady Flutter) were exactly suited to two young persons in the house, Miss

Pope, and Mr. O'Brien, whose talents he was desirois to bring forward. He also himself took m uncommon fancy to the character of

Sir Aithony Branville, and the event justified his pjedilection, for we have Davies's " testimony," that —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 219

" Garrick's reputation for pleasing in Bran- ville was so great, that he was, the year before he left the stage, called upon by a royal command to revive the Discovery, and play Sir An- thony Branville." Life ofGarrick, vol.i.p. 311.

The same letter that contains an account of the " Discovery," relates the flattering mark of royal favour shewn to Mr. Sheridan, in the

grant of a pension ; and the manner in which it is worded, places the estimation in which her husband was held, in a stronger light than any biographer has chosen to notice.

" Mr. Sheridan is now busied in the English

Dictionary, which he is encouraged to pursue with the more alacrity, as his Majesty has vouchsafed him a signal mark of royal favour.

He has granted him a pension of two hundred pounds a year merely as an encouragement to his undertaking, and this without solicitation, which makes it the more valuable. The concluding paragraph in the letter affords one proof, among many, that neither domestic employments, nor literary engagements, prevented 220 MEMOIRS OF

Mrs. Sheridan from exercising her kind heart in

the performance of obliging actions : while her

truly fascinating manners, which rendered her

acceptable to all ranks of persons, furnished

her promptly with the means of success. As

it alludes to a negociation that seems to have

been begun above six months before, I shall

give the extracts from her two differently dated

letters together. The first mention of it is,

" London, March SOth, I762.'*

" I waited in hopes of being able to give

you some satisfactory account of your friend

Mr. Armstrong ; and am very glad to inform

you, that I happened to have interest enough

with a very worthy gentleman to get him a

small employment, which he has thought worth

his acceptance. Upon my first application to this gentleman, he told me he had nothing in

his power : but that I might depend on him when any thing offered. I then got my brother to write to Mr. Adair: who returned the same

answer ; and I was afraid tlie young man might have continued here a long time without sue- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 221 ceeding, when my friend Commissioner Tom, came himself to tell me he had a place worth sixty pounds a year, and apartments, &c. with it. I understood from Mr. Armstrong that he

had a mind to go abroad : but as nothing eligible was to be procured in that way, I thought that this might be better than nothing. I wrote to him, and desired him to wait on Commissioner

Tom. He did so, and Mr. Tom has since informed me, that he accepted of the place, and purposed going down to Portsmouth, where he is stationed."

It appears afterwards that the young man, in whom she interested herself, missed this appointment by some failure of his own ; but this did not damp Mrs. Sheridan's benevolence, for she thus concludes her letter of Nov. 29th.

*' I know not whether Mr. Armstrong ever gave you any account of himself. A failure on

his side occasioned his losing the little place

which was ready for his acceptance. Perhaps

he has done better : for, on his missing that, I

got him so well recommended, that he was sent 222 MEMOIRS OF with the army to Portugal, in a very good station, where I suppose he now is.*'

On the fifth of February, I763, the comedy of " The Discovery " was presented to the pubUc. The first night of its representation must have been one of fearful anxiety to Mrs.

Sheridan. Notwithsan ding the success of " Sid- ney Biddulph," her uncertainty must have been great respecting the reception of this, her first dramatic attempt. That excellence in one style of writing is no certain preservative against complete failure in another, the example of some of the dramatic pieces of the celebrated novelist Henry Fielding, sufficiently testifies. Most truly has it been observed, that,

*' the sneering reader, and the loud critic, and the tart review, are scattered and distant ca-

lamities ; but the trampling of an intelligent or an ignorant audience, on a production, which, be it good or bad, has been a mental labour to the writer, is a palpable and immediate griev- ance." At the same time it must be admitted, as MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 223 set-off to this justly drawn and strongly coloured picture, that if the censure and sarcasm elicit- ed by the author who writes only for the closet

be "scattered" and "distant," so, also, may

sometimes be his praise : and, however exten-

sive his fame, he cannot know (except by inspi-

ration) every rapture that has been excited by his numbers, every heart that has glowed in

solitude over his verse. On the contrary, there

is in the " instantaneous perception" of the

theatre, an immediate acknowledgment of ex-

cellence, a grateful return for instruction and pleasure received, most flattering to the feelings

of any writer who sets a just value on the de-

served approbation of his fellow-beings.

On this trying occasion Mrs. Sheridan had all

the support that a just confidence in her own

powers, united to the highest domestic encou-

ragement, could give her.

The principal humorous character in her play

(Sir Anthony Branville) was honoured with the

particular approbation of Garrick himself, who

was desirous of undertaking it ; and the piece

was brought out with the advantage of the whole

strength of the house. Mr. Sheridan playing ;

Q24* ]M E i\I O 1 R S OF

Lord Medway ; Mrs. Pritchard, Lady Medway

Mrs. Yates, the widow Knightly ; Mrs. Pahner, Miss Richley; Mr. O'Brien and Miss Pope,

Sir Harry and Lady Flutter : and Mr. Garrick,

Sir Anthony Branville.*

Just at the hour the anxious authoress, who spent the time at home, might judge the piece concluded, and tremblingly anticipate the final decision of the public, a joyous party from the

* Garrick retained his predilection for this character long after the hand that had traced it was cold. In 1775, when

" The Duenna " appeared at the other theatre, and proved for above seventy nights the sole magnet of attraction, Gar- rick, to divide the public attention, revived " The Discovery" at Drury Lane, and announced himself for the character of

Sir Anthony Branville. This setting up of the mother against the son, appeared to old Mr. Sheridan something so strange and unnatural, that he would not allow his daughters, though in

London, to go to see it ; by which means they were deprived of the double and exquisite treat of witnessing the inimitable performance of Garrick in a comedy of their mother's writing. Mr. Harris, of Covent-Garden, nothing daunted by this manoeuvre, continued to act " The Duenna" to overflowing- houses. This proceeding used to be called at the time (in allusion to the character who gives her name to Mr. Sheridan's piece, and also to the advanced age of Mr. Garrick, the principal supporter of " The Discovery,") " The Old Woman against the Old Man." Davies mentions Garrick's once playing " The Discovery" in 1775, " by royal command ;'' but omits, or was ignorant of his motive for continuing it. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. "225

theatre, headed by the Hon. Mrs. Chohiiondely,

burst into the drawmg-room, and warmly con-

gratulated her on the complete success of lier

play. In the fashion of those days, Mrs. Choi-

mondely wore a chip hat and linen gown for

the middle gallery ; her beautiful white hands

were sore with applauding ; a few words ex-

plained her reasons for this apparently singular

conduct.

The strong characters of Lord Medway and

Mrs. Knightly, and the humorous ones of Sir

Anthony Branville, Sir Harry and Lady Flutter,

could not, she felt assured, fail of being relished and justly appreciated by the tasteful and discriminating part of the audience in the pit and boxes, and that her presence there was unneces-

sary ; but as there was an infusion of sentiment exquisitely delicate in the piece, and as the whole belonged rather to the cast of high and genteel comedy than of broad and farcical humour, she thought the respectable supporters of the middle gallery might require a little leading; and in consequence stationed herself, with Mr. Archibald

Frazer and a considerable body of friends, to

Q ^226 MEMOIRS OF point out to them xdien they should admire, and contribute their share to the success of the play by obstreperous thunders of applause. Having claimed approbation for the complete success of this manoeuvre, the lively Mrs. Cholmondely now requested the fortunate poetess would hasten the arrival of supper for herself and hungry friends : and those are little acquainted with the anxieties and solicitudes of the drama, who cannot imagine that seldom was a supper dispatched with greater gaiety and appetite.

" The Discovery " continued to be acted with

success for a considerable part of the winter ; and Mrs. Sheridan's fame and profit increased proportionably.

Of this comedy, as I have already mentioned the leading characters, it is unnecessary to say much.

The plot is deep and interesting ; and the truly tremendous and startling " Discovery" most artfully concealed until the final develop- ment. The imperious character of Lord Med- way finely contrasts with the gentleness of his lady ; and the really frigid temper and affected raptures of the romantic old knight, Sir Anthony ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 227

Branville, who makes love according to the an- tiquated rules of chivalry, and esteems a task or a penance set him by his mistress as a favour, were rendered irresistibly ludicrous and effec- tive by the inimitable acting of Garrick. But still a great portion of the amusement certainly rests upon the two characters of Sir Harry and

Lady Flutter. These claim the merit, almost singular in the modern drama, of perfect origi- nality in the conception. The quarrels and

" makings-up " of this school-boy and school-

girl pair ; their mutual reproaches and recrimi- nations, which are in the best style of Sheridan's comic dialogue ; their dangerous reference to the interested arbitration of Lord Medway and their final and heartfelt reconciliation, present altogether such a " picture of youth," as was rarely traced by any other pen, in a manner equally true to nature.

If Sir Harry and Lady Flutter were fortunate in the skill with which they were delineated, they were equally so in the justice done to them in representation. Miss Pope, and the elegant

0,2 228 MEMOIRS OF

O'Brien,* were at that time the breathing pro-

totypes of the characters they sustained. The

gaiety, vivacity and sprightHness that shone

conspicuous in this accomphshed pair, their extreme youth and interesting appearance, gave to the scenes in which they acted together, a degree of briUiancy and effect, which was produced not only by their talents, but by their being themselves, like the characters they represented, in all the spring and pride of the earliest and most blooming period of existence.

The value set by Garrick upon the] comedy continued unabated ; and he went so far as to assure a publisher, who afterwards bought a share in it, *' that it was one of the best comedies he ever read, and that he could not do better than to lay out his money in so valuable a purchase.**

If " The Discovery " has, in modern times, been comparatively laid aside, this may partly be attributed to the want of an adequate representative of Sir Anthony Branville, and partly to

* Afterwards married to Lady Susan Strangways. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 229

the large drafts drawn upon Mrs. Sheridan's

muse by succeeding dramatic writers. In Hol-

croft's " Road to Ruin," the fiHal self-devotion

of Harry Dornton is copied, without acknowledgment, from that of Colonel Medway ; and in his most lachrymose comedy, " The Deserted

Daughter," the character of Lady Anne Mor-

dent is a compound of Lady Easy in " The

Careless Husband," and Lady Medway in

** The Discovery,"

liS ——

230 MEMOIRS OF

CHAPTER VIL

Portrait of Mrs. Cholmondely—The original of several of Mrs. Brookes' Heroines.—Friendship for Mrs. Sheridan. —Anecdotes of Catherine Macauley—Humorous Vanity of Mrs. Clive Anecdote The Dupe—Ode to Patience. —Mrs. Woffington's Phaedra. — Epigram on a Reply made to Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough—Affliction, an Apo- logue Distinguished Compliment paid to Mr. Sheridan, in Ireland.—Mr. Sheridan's Opinion of the Female Sex. Bath and Bristol.—Mrs. Sheridan becomes a Pupil of Mr, Linley's. —The Linley Family. —Juvenile Anecdote of Thomas Linley.— Mr. Sheridan and Miss Hannah More. —Dangerous Accident to Mrs. Sheridan.—Edinburgh Mr. Sheridan honoured with the Freedom of the City Lady Maxwell mother to the Duchess of Gordon.— Re- moval to France.

Of the Hon. Mrs. Cholmondely, the lady

who has been introduced as bearing so conspi-

cuous and whimsical a part in the success of

" The Discovery," it is now time to say some-

. thing further.

The intimacy of this lady with Mrs. Sheri-

dan originated in the admiration Mrs. Choi- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 231 moiidely had conceived for her character. On

Mrs. Sheridan's coming to London, Mrs. Chol- mondely sought her out, and would be acquainted with her. It is difficult to conceive the original attraction that conducted to Mrs. Sheridan, a woman of mild manners and domestic habits,

Mrs. Cholmondelj, the lively heroine of many popular novels of the day ; the original Lady Anne Wilmot of Mrs. Brookes' " Juha Mande- ville ;" and the Bell Fermor of her " History of Emily Montague :" Mrs. Cholmondely, whose wit and beauty are so often the theme of the writers of the age, and whose delight it was

(within the strict limits of decorum) to attract around her a circle of male admirers. Not- withstanding the diversity in their manners, the attachment that united these ladies was certainly very strong, for the remembrance of her friend was cherished by Mrs. Cholmondely with emotions of the liveliest tenderness. After

Mrs. Sheridan's decease, and the return of her daughters from France, Mrs. Cholmondely was among the first to seek them out ; and often, in

q 1- 23'i MEMOIRS OF

the midst of her liveliest saUies, the tears would

rush unbidden into her beautiful eyes, and she would abruptly exclaim to the youngest, " Do not look thus at me—you remind me too much of your mother."

This sympathy must be attributed to the brilliant talents and amiable manners that distinguished both ladies. Mrs. Cholmondely possessed a warm heart and a cultivated under-

standing; ; she loved admiration much, but she valued friendship more. These qualities form a sufficient foundation for an intimate union of " minds : for as to des ames qui se sont touches par tous les points de coherence," they are only to be found in the dreams of Rousseau, while we remain in this sublunary state of existence.

During her residence in London, Mrs. Sheri- dan was made happy in a renewal of intercourse with her favourite brother, Richard Chamber- laine, who was married and settled as a surgeon in Beaufort Buildings. This gentleman valued his sister's society so highly, that he never failed, after going his medical rounds, to pass a part ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 233

of every evening that he could spare at her

house.

One more London acquaintance of Mrs.

Sheridan's I shall introduce to the reader ; this

was Mrs., or (as she liked to be distinguished)

Catherine Macauley.

Mrs. Lefanu, of Dublin, then a fine intelligent girl of between nine and ten years of age, used to give a humorous account of the first interview between these literary ladies.

Mrs. Macauley introduced herself by complimenting Mrs. Sheridan upon her novel

Mrs. Sheridan, as in duty bound, replied by complimenting Mrs. Macauley upon her history; and the manner of both gave Miss Sheri- dan the idea that neither of them had read the works of the other. Mrs. Macauley did not appear to her to have any of those charms so profusely ascribed to her by a female biographer :* neither was there any thing of that levity or extravagance of dress imputed to her by one of the other sex.t Mrs. Macauley struck

* Mary Hayes's Biographical Dictionary of Celebrated Women. f Boswell's Johnson. 2.34 MEMOIRS OF

Miss Sheridan as a plain woman,—pale, tall,

cold, and formal ; with nothing reprehensible in her manners, nor any thing peculiarly fasci-

nating in her address.

At a subsequent period, Mrs. Macauley is

said to have given occasion for remark, by the

luxury and extravagance of her establishment,

by the affected form of her cards of invitation,

" Catherine Macauley At Home to the Li-

terati :" and by a degree of gaiety, and co-

quetry of the toilette, that was deemed incon-

sistent with republican simplicity. But let us

be just to the memory of a very uncommon

female, who rose above the disadvantages and

deficiencies of education, at a time that lite-

rature was not cultivated among women as it is

at present. Small could not be the industry

and perseverance of a woman, who, under these

circumstances, was able to raise herself to rank

with the historians of her country ; nor was the

merit inconsiderable of that person, who was

admired by Cowper, and quoted with appro-

bation by Mr. Fox.

The talents of Mrs. Sheridan were of a MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 235 sort more popular and generally amusing. In the end of this year she had finished another comedy, entitled " The Dupe," which was read with approbation at her own house by the assembled performers. It was pronounced by several of the best judges to be possessed of equal merit with the first, and sanguine expectations were entertained of its ultimate success : but, like Goldsmith's " Good- natured Man," which was ill-received by the audience that had welcomed with smiles his first effort, ** She Stoops to Conquer," *' The

Dupe " was fated to experience the mutability of public opinion ; aided, in a great measure, by the theatrical cabals of a popular actress, who had conceived herself ill-used by Mr.

Sheridan, and knew there was no way to wound him more effectually than through the being whom, upon earth, he most loved and valued.

The "popular actress," alluded to in the account of this transaction, I suspect to be

Mrs. Clive ; who had vowed immortal Iiatred to

Mr. Sheridan, for a cause sufficiently ludicrous. 236 MEMOIRS OF

This actress, unrivalled in comic humour, and valued for her talents in private life, by such judges as Horace Walpole, and Dr. Johnson, not content with these legitimate tributes to her merit, aimed at characters in tragedy, for which the plainness of her person totally disqualified her. Mr. Sheridan used humorously to term the Green-room " The Limbo of Vanity :'* and so indeed we must pronounce it, when we find Mrs. Clive insisting on playing the beautiful and interesting Monimia, in Otway's tragedy of " The Orphan ;*' and, because Mr. Sheridan refused to play Chamont to her Monimia, she from that moment put herself at the head of a party against him.

If Mrs. Sheridan was thus made the innocent

victim of the malice of an actress, she had at

the same time reason to applaud the liberality

and gentlemanly conduct of a bookseller. Mil-

lar, who had purchased " The Dupe,'* shortly

afterwards sent Mrs. Sheridan an additional

hundred pounds besides the copy-right, with

the following polite letter. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 237

" Madam : Believe me I am truly concerned

that your comedy has met with such severe,

and, without flattery I must add, such unde-

served treatment on the stage. Neither am I

singular in this opinion : the rapid sale of it is

an undeniable proof of its merit, which the public have not been blind to in the closet.

The demand for your piece at my shop has been so uncommonly great, that, exclusive of the copy-money, it has enabled me to present you with the enclosed, of which I entreat your acceptance, as a small testimony of that gratitude and respect, with which I have the honour to subscribe myself, " Madam,

" Your most obliged,

" And obedient humble servant, " Andrew Millar."

At this critical juncture, the absence of Mr.

Sheridan in Ireland upon necessary business, made it harder for Mrs. Sheridan to sustain this unlooked-for blow in her literary career ; as she was accustomed on every occasion to look up : !

238 MEMOIRS OF to her husband for consolation, guidance, and support.

That she felt deeply this disappointment to her interest and lier fame is evident, from the manner in which she alludes to the circumstance in the subjoined " Ode to Patience:" " Though by injurious Joes borne down," &c. In this stanza it is placed first in order, though it was, at the time of writing the poem, the last event that had occurred to exercise the fortitude and equanimity of Mrs. Sheridan.

ODE TO PATIENCE.

UnaWED by threats, unmoved by force,

My steady soul pursues her course,

Collected, calm, resign'd.

Say, ye, who search with curious eyes,

The spring whence human actions rise,

Say, whence this turn of mind ?

'Tis Patience. —Gentle Goddess, hail

O, let thy votary's vows prevail,

Thy threaten'd flight to stay : —;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 239

Long hast thou been a welcome guest,

Long reign'd an inmate in this breast,

And ruled with gentle sway.

Through all the various turns of fate,

Ordain'd me in each several state,

My wayward lot has known

What taught me silently to bear,

To curb the sigh, to check the tear,

When sorrow weigh'd me down ?

'Twas Patience—Temperate Goddess, stay !

For still thy dictates I obey.

Nor yield to Passion's power

Though by injurious foes borne down,

My fame, my toil, my hopes o'erthrown

In one ill-fated hour.

When robb'd of her I held most dear.

My hands adorned the mournful bier

Of her I loved so well

What, when mute sorrow chain'd my tongue,

As o'er the sable hearse I hung.

Forbade the tide to swell ?

'Twas Patience. —Goddess ever calm,

OM pour into my breast thy balnij

That antidote to pain : : ;

240 MEMOIRS OF

* Which, flowing from thy nectar'd urn,

By chemistry divine can turn

Our losses into gain.

When sick, and languishing in bed,

Sleep from my restless couch had fled,

Sleep —which even pain beguiles :

What taught me calmly to sustain

A feverish being rack'd with pain,

And drest my looks in smiles ?

*Twas Patience—Heav'n-descended Maid,

Implored, flew swiftly to my aid,

And lent her fostering breast

Watch'd my sad couch with parent care,

Repell'd th' approaches of Despair,

And sooth'd my soul to rest.

What, when dissever'd from his side,

My friend, protector, and my guide

When my prophetic soul,

Anticipating all the storm.

Saw danger in its direst form,

What could my fears controul ?

* " Patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill."

Vanity of Human Wishes. MRS?. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 24<1

*Twas Patience.—Gentle goddess, hear,

Be ever to thy suppliant near,

Nor let one murmur rise :

For still some mighty joys are given,

Dear to her soul, the gifts of heaven,

The sweet domestic ties.

This, if merely a poetic boast, would have had little to recommend it ; but it becomes an interesting picture of the consolations of poetry and philosophy to an elegant mind, when we refer to the character of the author, whose children remember her to have ever soothed, by her unchangeable mildness, the severest irri- tations of spirits in her husband ; while her understanding, when he consulted it, was sure to add new lights to his own. Both Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan were in the habit

of writing poetry for their amusement. Very

little of Mr. Sheridan's manuscript compositions

in verse remain. A copy of verses on Mrs. Wof-

fington's inimitable performance of " Phaedra,"

written by him with all the fire and discrimi-

nation of kindred genius, appeared in an Irish R 242 MEMOIRS OF

collection, and was much admired at the time ; but I have not been able to recover it. The

one with which I venture to present the reader, is short, and of a lighter cast. It has the

merit of being historical, and is the literal ver-

sification of the genuine reply of a dutiful

young gentleman to his maternal ancestor.

EPIGRAM,

BY THOMAS SHERIDAN, A.M.

[Being the Answer of the Hon. John Spencer to his Grandmother, Sarah Dvchess of Marlborovgli.j

With her ofFspring around, as she sat at a feast,

Old Sarah, dehghted, thus said to each guest :

" Fill your glasses, my lads, and drink health to the root,

" Whence so many fair branches thus thrivingly shoot."

" Ah Madam !" quoth Jack, with a bow most profound,

" The branches ne'er thrive, while the root's above ground."

While inserting miscellaneous pieces, I am tempted here to add an Apologue, composed by Dr. Sheridan when a youth, at the request of his father, and never published in any former collection. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 243

AFFLICTION,

An Apologue.

As Affliction one day sat on the sea-shore, she leaned her head on her hand, and seemed to cast her eye at a distance on the swelling ocean. Wave succeeded to wave, and tear after tear stole down her pallid cheek. The polished pebbles, intermingled with shells of unfading colours, drew her attention, while her imagination traced a variety of pictures in the for- tuitous assemblage. As Affliction has amusements, as well as other affections of the mind, she traced a figure on the shining sand witli a branch of willow, which she called Man. Jupiter happened to pass that way, and was so struck with the ease and proportion of the lineaments,

that he inspired the figure with life. A contest

now arose. The Eaith claimed the image, as

having furnished the materials that composed it.

materials were Affliction cried, "it is mine ; your

of no value till I traced the form." Lastly Ju-

piter preferred his claim, as having called that R 2 S44 MEMOIRS OF form into life and motion. The Gods having heard every argument the claimants could urge, pronounced this solemn decree : " Man shall be the property of Affliction during his life.

When he ceases to breathe, the materials of which his frame is composed shall return to

earth ; while his spirit shall ascend to inhabit the celestial regions, justly restored to Jupiter who bestowed it."

The Spring of 1764 brought Mrs. Sheridan some consolation after her numerous trials.

Mr. Sheridan, who had been playing with great eclat in Dublin through the winter, returned to her ; and though in Ireland he had experienced a good deal of the perfidy and villainy of mankind, he had received from the fair sex a distinguished compliment, to which he was peculiarly sensible. On his re-appearance in the character of Hamlet, Nov. 11, 1763, Lady Northumberland* (whose husband had just been appointed Lord Lieutenant) stood up

* The Lady Elizabeth, daughter of the Duke of Somer- set, and afterwards justly distinguished as the great and good Duchess of Northumberland. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 245

in her box, upon which all the ladies present

followed her example, and welcomed Mr. Sheri-

dan by the very unusual and marked tribute of

personal applause.

Of the virtues of women in general, Mr. She-

ridan had a very favourable opinion, and he was

often heard to observe, that in the distressing

vicissitudes of his fortune, he had met, in his female friends, with more generosity, more disinterestedness, and far greater steadiness of attachment than among men. The female heart did not grow cold at the aspect of calamity, and the sympathies of woman were ever ready at the call of unmerited distress.

Once restored to her friend and protector,

Mrs. Sheridan did not let her dramatic disap-

pointment weigh heavily upon her spirits ; for we find her accompanying her husband to Bath

lectures and Bristol, where he gave on oratory ; and where she, with the vivid susceptibility to innocent pleasures which is often the attribute of a virtuous mind, became quite an enthusiast for the merit of the Linleys. R 3 246 me:\ioirs of

It was there that Mrs. Sheridan became first acquainted with that interesting family. Pos- sessing a fine voice, and a considerable taste in music, she availed herself of this opportunity to take lessons in singing from Mr. Linley. The peculiar expression and pathos that mark the

Linley and Jackson school, opened a new world of harmony to her senses, of which she was never

weary : her enthusiasm continued, on returning alone with her daughter to London, and the eldest Miss Sheridan, who slept with her mother, remembered being kept awake during the night by Mrs. Sheridan's repeating the last song she had learnt from Linley.*

* " In a vale clothed with woodlands," &c.

Never perhaps was there a family so highly gifted in its numerous members. When Thomas Linley (the lamented

Lycidas of Mrs. Elizabeth Sheridan's poem) was a very little boy, he was already a proficient on the violin. A gentleman who had been complimenting the elder Mr. Linley upon the dawning talents of his charming daughters, observing little

?" Tom, asked him, " Are you, too, musical, my little man

" Oh yes, Sir," replied Tom Linley with naivete, " We are

!" all geniuses MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 247

While Mrs. Sheridan was thus employing her

moments of leisure, her husband was received

with the greatest marks of civility by the Bris-

tolians : who, however they may have been

vilified for want of taste, by literary people of

irregular habits or immoral principles, left on

Mr. Sheridan's mind a strong impression of the

urbanity, politeness, and good sense of that

distinguished and wealthy community.

A copy of verses upon Mr. Sheridan, by a

very young lady of that city, was handed to the

Orator; who read them, liked them, andprophe-

cied favourably of the poetic talents of the fair

author. There is something interesting in the first efforts of youthful genius, particularly in a female, which lays hold of the mind, and inspires a fond partiality, not to be afterwards renewed by more laboured and finished productions. Mr. Sheridan on this occasion, however, proved not to be blinded by self-love, or propitiated by flattery, for the muse whose first lisping accents were in his praise at the age of timid and blushing fifteen, has since ^j)proved

R 4- S48 MEMOIRS OF

herself honourably to the world in the nume-

rous and valuable productions of Miss Hannah More.

On leaving Bristol, Mr. Sheridan proceeded

to Richmond, where he remained a few days

on a visit to his friend Mr. Aikenhead, while

Mrs. Sheridan was in London preparing for

their expedition to Scotland. During this visit

to London, the life of Mrs. Sheridan was en-

dangered by an accident, for which she was ever

afterwards careful to avoid giving occasion.

Being deeply engaged, one night, reading in

bed, she was so interested in her book that she

did not perceive a part of the curtain had taken

fire till aroused from her abstraction by a smell

of burning. She then hastily called for assist-

ance, which was administered just in time to

prevent the bed-clothes from being in a blaze.

Mrs. Sheridan from that time forward ever

avoided the absurd and dangerous indulgence

of reading in bed by candle-light.

Edinburgh was, both to Mrs. Sheridan and her husband, a scene of very agreeable remem- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 249 brances. In a visit paid about two years before to that city, Mr. Sheridan had met in public with the most distinguished approbation of his plans, and in private with the most flattering attentions from individuals. He could reckon among his encouragers the first names the period had to boast for virtue and talent ; and had received the high honour of the freedom of the city, which was presented to him by the hands of Dr. Robertson, the historian. Mrs.

Sheridan, too, had formed some pleasing private

friendships ; among which was Lady Maxwell, of whose talents and understanding she conceived so high an opinion, that she could have felt no surprise had she lived to witness the powers of mind, and versatility of acquirement, of that lady's most distinguished daughter, the late Duchess of Gordon.

The course of lectures Mr. Sheridan had to deliver in Edinburgh detained him in that city till August.

Learning that he could live much more rea- sonably in France upon the pension it pleased '250 MEMOIRS OF

his Majesty graciously to allow him, it had

long been Mr. Sheridan*s intention, as soon

as peace between the two countries should ren-

der such a plan feasible, to retire thither for a

time, and recruit his finances. Different reasons had hitherto frustrated this plan ; but in Sep-

tember, 1764, he put it in execution, and em-

barked for Calais ; taking with him his wife,

his two daughters, and his eldest son, Charles

Francis Sheridan. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 1^51

CHx\PTER VUI.

Right Hon. Richard Brinsley Sheridan.— Anecdotes of Ri- chard Brinsley at Harrow.— Journey of Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan in France.— Baptiste. —Paris Hotel de Picar- die.—Clairon—Blois— Whimsical Inducement to Mr. Sheridan to settle there.— Story of Mademoiselle Hemin. —The Cottage of the Loire. — Correction of a Miscon- struction in the " Memoirs" of R. B. Sheridan. —Madame Des Combes. — Comic Anecdotes.— Story of Poor Robin. —Respect shewn to Mr. Sheridan by the travelling Eng- lish.— Friendliness of the French Anecdote of Father Mark—Melancholy story of an English Lady.— Extraor- dinary Anecdote of another Lady. — Family of Montigny.

The paternal anxiety of Mr. Sheridan on leaving Richard behind him, for ail his children were inexpressibly dear to him, was alleviated by the consideration that he was under the care of the Rev. Dr. Robert Sumner, his best frierid.

The intimacy between them began, as has been before related, during Mr. Sheridan's residences at Windsor, when Dr. Sumner was a master at

Eton ; and it was so great, that whenever Dr. 252 MEMOIRS OF

Sumner went up to town, and Mr. Sheridan was in the country, the confidential sei'vant left in his lodgings had orders to get them in readiness

. the same as for her master ; and Dr. Sumner made Mr. Sheridan's home his temporary abode. Dr. Sumner, now head master of Harrow

School, repaid this kindness by the particular attention he paid to Richard Brinsley Sheridan, who had been placed there about two years

before ; he had him an inmate of his house, and in every way supplied the place of a parent to him. In the Memoirs of Richard Brinsley

Sheridan, pages 162, l6o, 164, &c., an idea is given that he passed through his school course without credit or approbation. That a boy might not be an attentive student at Harrow, and yet afterwards dazzle the world with his astonishing abilities, we have proof irrefragable ; but Richard, though not distinguished for regular application, was far from deserving or incur- ring the neglect hinted by his biographer, p.

167 : " Richard Brinsley Sheridan was in his

eighteenth year when he quitted Harrow ; where :

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. Q53 he neither formed any particular friendships, nor left behind him any pleasing marks of remembrance.'* — Memoirs of the Public and

Private Life ofR.B. Sheridan.

This is not correct: Mr. R. B. Sheridan was only in his seventeenth year when he quitted

Harrow. The assertion that he formed no friendships is equally ill grounded, as he re-

tained several pleasing juvenile intimacies J the objects of which were afterwards kindly received at his father's house. Sir William Jones, Messrs.

Glanville, Home, Cummings, and Halhed, the orientalist, were among his principal intimates.

Here I have the advantage of quoting the testimony of the Reverend Dr. Parr, who kindly permits me to make use of his own words on the occasion, with regard to the general estimation in which Richard Brinsley Sheridan was held at Harrow : — " This I well remember though neither masters nor boys looked upon

Sheridan as a good scholar, they one and all

liked him ; and the minds of all were impressed

with an indistinct notion that his natural powers

were uncommonly great." ;

^254i :.i E M o I R s OF

Richard Brinsley was in some degree instructed by Dr. Parr, then the first assistant in

Harrow School. The care of his pecuniary concerns, in the absence of his parents, devolved on his maternal uncle, Mr. Richard Chamber-

laine ; and though he, of course, allowed his nephew every reasonable indulgence, a little incident which happened at that time placed

Richard Brinsley's love of frolic, opposed to his uncle's prudent economy, in a ludicrous point of view. On occasion of the grand annual contest for the silver arrow, Richard Brinsley was not a competitor for the prize of archery but distinguished himself by the delivery of a

Greek oration. This, as he was intended for one of the learned professions, was a very judicious arrangement, as it exhibited his proficiency in scholarship ; and, in the embarrassed state of his father's circumstances, was far pre- ferable to a frivolous competition, which involved a considerable degree of expense. So

perhaps reasoned Mr. Richard Chamberlaine j but if he did so, his nephew was determined to ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. '255 disappoint the old gentleman in any economical views he might have had in favouring this arrangement. The Greek oration was to be delivered in the character of a military commander and as the notions of costume were not so strict in those days as they are at present, Richard

Brinsley, of his own authority, ordered the uniform of an English general officer to be made up for the occasion. Accordingly, on the important day he appeared, not, indeed, in the elegant dress of an archer of Harrow ; but in the equally expensive one of a military chief. Mr.

Chamberlaine, to whom of course his tailor's bill was delivered, severely remonstrated with him on this unexpected piece of extravagance.

Sheridan respectfully replied, that, as the speech was to be delivered in a martial character, he did not think the effect would have been complete without an appropriate dress ; and that indeed so deeply was he himself impressed with that feeling, that he was sure if he had not been properly habited, he could not have delivered a word of the oration. 256 MEMOIRS OF

What necessary connexion there was between

Greek and scarlet and gold regimentals, poor

Mr. Chamberlaine could not exactly see j he was obliged, however, to overlook his nephew's vanity and love of shew, not without a shrewd suspicion that the pleasure of hoaxing him had a share in Brinsley's suddenly declared martial taste.

Mr. Aikenhead, a splendid West- Indian, who had a villa at Richmond, was, with his lady, among those who, in the absence of his parents, paid the greatest attention to Richard Brinsley.

This Mr. Aikinhead was an old friend of Mr.

Sheridan's, and all the vacations of his son were spent either at the town or country residence of that gentleman, who is well known as an ama- teur of fashion in the literary and theatrical history of the day. If Richard Brinsley was thus beloved by his masters, school-fellows, and acquaintances, he was no less fortunate in conci- liating the regard of persons in an humbler

sphere : Mrs. Purdon, the respectable housekeeper at Harrow, showed him, during his resi- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 2^7

dence there, the attentions of a mother. After

he had left school a considerable time, and was

at Bath, this worthy woman had the misfortune

to lose a little daughter, of whom Richard

Brinsley had been remarkably fond : as a friend,

who she felt assured would take an interest in

her misfortune, Mrs. Purdon sent Mr. Sheridan

on this occasion a mourning ring ; and he, who

was possessed of much native tenderness of

heart, was greatly affected, both on hearing of

the untimely death of the child, and receiving

this testimony of the remembrance of his humble friend. As for Dr. Sumner himself, Mr. II. B.

Sheridan ever remembered him with sentiments of the gratitude, highest regard and veneration ; and on the death of that enlightened and distinguished man, bewailed him with the affection he owed to a second parent.*

* P. 335, " Memoirs of the Right Hon. R. B. Sheridan," it is said, " In an early part of these Memoirs some doubt was expressed respecting his chiim to the version of the Love

Epistles of Aristena;tus ; but subsequent information has

S confirmed ^58 il E M O I 11 S OF

To return from this Ions; digression to the

})rincipal subject of our narrative.

The elder Mr. Sheridan, in order to accom- modate his family, travelled in a coach, and had also a post-chaise. At Calais he was en- countered by a poor fellow, soi-disant Italian, though his name of Baptiste rather bespoke him of Gallic origin, who besought Mr.

Sheridan's permission to accompany him to

Paris in the quality of domestic ; alleging as

conjirmed his right to a share in that translation, in conjunction with Mr. Halhed, the orientalist."

Now the passage alluded to is in the first volume, and is as

follows :

" He is said by one of his biographers to have joined with another gentleman, in translating the Epistles of Aristenaetus from the Greek. There was indeed a version of that writer's

letters published by Wilkie, in the year 1771 ; but though

it is not unlikely that Richard Sheridan might have had some

concern in polishing the language, or correcting the sheets for the press, it is certain that he had not the smallest share in the translation."—Watkins's Memoirs, p. 171 —2.

Now this appears to us rather a strong manner of expres-

sing " some doubt." MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 259 his reason, that if allowed to pass for an

English gentleman's servant, he need only tra- vel on horseback, but otherwise the arbitrary impositions of the French landlords would oblige him to take a guide, an additional expense he could very ill afford. In all modern books of travels we are warned against the officiousness of these adventurers, who offer their services with a boldness and pertinacity truly astonishing to us reserved islanders ; but Mr. Sheridan, who possessed a great fund of good-nature, could not find it in his heart to refuse the poor fellow's request ; and as for utility, Baptiste, if his own word might be taken, was equal to La Fleur for excellence in every department.

At the end of the first day's journey, Bap- tiste presented himself officiously at the 'portihe^ to assist the family to alight. TJie first person it was his lot to hand out was the eldest Miss

Sheridan ; and though she was at that time a slight young girl, her supporter gave way beneath her weight, and down came poor Bap- tiste and the affrighted young lady together.

s 2 260 M E IVI O I R S OF

This was an unpromising beginning, but Bap- tiste was profuse in his apologies. The truth now appeared : that of whatever other perfections as a domestic he might be possessed, follow-

ing his master as a groom was not one of them,

for he alleged in his excuse that he was tired

and jaded to death ; adding, in a most doleful " tone, Ah, Sir ! I never in my life was so long

upon one horse before.'* Other accomplish-

ments as useful as iiorsemanship were, however,

displayed by Baptiste : to a family imperfectly

acquainted with the French language he proved

invaluable ; and during Mr. Sheridan's short

stay in Paris he so recommended himself by his

dexterity, understanding and attention, as to

render a valet de place wholly an unnecessary

addition to his esta,blishment.

Leaving his family at the inn, Mr. Sheridan's

first care at Paris was to look out lodgings for

apart- them ; and having fixed on handsome

ments in the Hotel de Picardie, he sent Baptiste

to convey his wife and children thither. Having

seen the family safe into the carriage, Baptiste MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 26l directed the postillion by simply saying " Hotel de Picardie." Mrs. Sheridan, who understood

French very imperfectly, heard only the word

" Picardie," and was instantly seized with the wildest and most insupportable alarms : all that she had read and heard of arrests and arbitrary imprisonments in tlie country in which they had sought an asylum, recurred to her terrified imagination. They had passed tlirough Picardy in their way to Paris ; and she now fancied she was to be compelled, with her children, to return thither, while her husband was forcibly conveyed to some different destination, far from her soothing affection, which always desired to share with him every danger. Her ignorance of the language, the habit she had of relying in every difficulty on the presenpe of her husband, the unhappiness of mind that she had long experienced from finding the most honourable intentions insufficient to preserve him from the gripe of ruthless creditors, all tended to foster this illusion. She had sufficient command over her feelings to conceal these agonizing appre-

s 3 262 MEMOIRS OF hensions from her children during the course of their short drive ; but when they stopped at the hotel, and Mr. Sheridan, who was always a good and gay traveller, welcomed them with some exultation, to the handsome lodgings he had so speedily procured for them, he found Mrs.

Sheridan unable any longer to support herself.

The strong revulsion of joy at seeing him well and in security, had proved too much for her, and she was seized in the hall of the hotel with violent hysterics. The strength of Mrs. Sheri- dan's frame was insufficient to cope with the

deep sensibilities of her mind ; but for this strong sensibility she had fortitude sufficient to sustain

the severest trials : it was in this point alone she was vulnerable ; and in the midst of all her assumed self command, remained a female, subject to all the cruel alarms and sufferings that distinguish the feminine character.

Mr. Sheridan remained about ten days at

Paris, seeing every thing most worthy of notice.

He was particularly struck with the acting of the " sublime Clairon ;" and upon afterwards MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. Q63 becoming acquainted with Mrs. Siddons, often compared the styles of those two celebrated actresses, who, in his opinion, came nearer to perfection than any he had ever beheld. He then proceeded with his family to Blois. Mr. Sheridan was at first uncertain what stay he should make there ; a trifling incident helped to determine him.

*' When you have no decided will of your own," says the agreeable author of the Diary of an Invalid, " the best way I believe is to commit yourself to the tide of events." —Such at the time was the case with Mr. Sheridan. He had determined on retiring into France, but was as yet undecided in what part of it he might finally settle. While he and Mrs. Sheri- dan were taking some refreshment and repose, his eldest daughter, with the liveliness of child- hood, anxious to explore the beauties of a scene so novel to her, took her little sister by the hand and quitted the inn. They had not proceeded far when they were alarmed by the face

of a little old woman at a window, so puckered and wrinkled that it gave her exactly the ap-

s 1^ r

264 MEMOIRS OF pearance of a witcli or little old fairy, who, both by signs and by calling endeavoured to induce them to stop. Frightened at her appearance, they only redoubled their speed, when a noise of steps sounding from behind, convinced them the little old lady had not given up her purpose, and they were speedily overtaken by a decent looking man, who respectfully apologize d fo the alarm he had given them, but said he was deputed by the lady who lodged with him to induce them to turn back and enter his house.

Convinced by the man's manner that no harm was intended, and urged by a little curiosity, the children, no longer terrified, consented to turn back with him. They were received very graciously by the old lady, who informed them in broken English that she was their country-

woman ; that observing them from the window, and seeing by their dress they were English girls, she could not deny herself the pleasure

(so long unknown to her) of conversing with some one from her dear country. She then set fruit before them ; and, contriving to make MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. '265 herself intelligible, although, owing to her long absence from England, her language was scarcely so, she asked them who they M^ere,

whence they came, and whether their parents intended to fix their residence at Blois, or were merely passing through it. To the first questions the children returned satisfactory answers: as to the latter, they replied very truly that they were ignorant of the intentions of their parents.

*' Well, my dears,'* said the interrogator, " if you will let me see your father perhaps I may be of use to him." Having devoted a few moments more to " make a toilette," that is, to exchange a morning jacket of cotton for a little silk negligee, this singular being set out with the two Miss Sheridans for the inn where their parents had stopped. Introduced to Mr.

Sheridan, she informed him with a low courtesy that she was a " poor little English girl ;" for so Mademoiselle Hemin, having almost forgot her English, translated " fille," or " demoi- selle," being an unmarried woman. Her father Monsieur Hemin (perhaps the right way ^266 MEMOIRS OF of spelling it, would have been Heming or Hem- mings) was an English Jacobite officer, who had followed the fortunes of James the Second.

On his death, the French government, com- passionating the forlorn situation of his surviving daughter, had gratified her with a very

small pension. But, alas ! poor Mademoiselle

Hemin was one of those whom, as Fontenelle said of himself, death seemed to have forgotten.

She lived on to extreme old age, beyond the memory of the first granters of her little provision, and the French government wisely concluding that if she was not dead, she oug/it to have been so, had for some time past struck her name out of the pension list. From that period she had supported herself chiefly by the very small and humble trade of pricking thim- bles ! —Yet though arrived almost at the verge of existence and grown down to the size of a little child, she still preserved her cheerfulness, and exhibited the dress and manners of a gentlewoman.

On repeating to Mr. Sheridan the same questions she had asked his daughters respecting MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 267 his stay, Mr. Sheridan repHed that he was undecided ; and Mademoiselle Hemin, who saw a prospect of advantage to herself in the neighbourhood of her compatriots, used every argument to determine his choice in favour of

Blois. " Sir," said she, with an accent of in- sinuation, " if you determined on remaining here, I could give you a good house, I could give you a good garden, good wine," &c. and continued to enumerate her power of bestowing several otlier advantages. Mr. Sheridan looked with surprise at this little Fairy Good-will, who, like her prototypes, though, herself, apparently feeble, old, and poor, pretended to the power of endowing others with every thing desirable.

He soon found that Mademoiselle Hemin, in her imperfect English, had substituted the word

"give " for "recommend," and that she meant she could point out to him where all the good things she enumerated were to be found. Hav- ing so far come to an understanding, Mr.

Sheridan availed himself of her long residence at Blois to obtain information, and found :

268 MEMOIRS OF

Mademoiselle Hemin as good as her word ; for she answered his enquiries so satisfactorily, that he was induced to take a cottage and garden, which she recommended to him, and soon found himself commodiously settled with his family

on the Banks of the Loire. Here he found all the advantages of fine air, salubrity, and cheap living, that he had promised himself, in retiring into France, and here, (notwithstanding some misconceptions that have arisen relative to liis letters and opinions) he spent two of the happiest years of his life.

The misconception I would particularly refer

to, occurs in Dr. Watkins, p. 124, relative to a passage in a letter written from France by

Mr. Sheridan, and beginning, " I have had a long fit of my old disorder," which the Doctor naturally enough concludes to mean " low spirits," and, reasoning upon these premises, thus proceeds

" From another letter to the same gentleman,

(Samuel Whyte) it appears that the change of place and leisure for literary employment, could MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 269 not erase the impression of misfortunes which in a considerable degree were the consequences of his own imprudence. He affected 'philosophy while he teas tortured with impatience^ and it is evident that the writer of this epistle was at the time of his composing it labouring under Hypo- chondriasis.'*

The expressions from which the biographer

deduces this inference, are as follow :

" This malady is to me of the most morti- fying nature in the world ; for at a time when

I was pushing on vigorously a work which it is of the utmost importance to me to finish as soon as possible, it puts as effectual a stop to my progress as if it had deprived me of the use of my hands.

" Its nature is to take the mijid priso?ier and bind up all the faculties.

" The least attention even to the writing of a letter becomes then an insupportable fatigue."

Now these passages, which the biographer

applies to Hypochondria, were no other than

the description of a severe oppression of the 270 MEMOIRS OF head and stomach, to which Mr. Sheridan was subject, and which is often the consequence of intense mental apphcation. It was aggravated in after Hfe by violent and repeated bihous attacks. This was entirely a bodily disorder, though of a nature, as he describes it, to forbid for the time any degree of mental exertion.

As to low spirits and gloom, though few had suffered severer disappointment than Mr. Sheri- dan, he possessed a mind remarkably free from such impressions. He had in general uniform and cheerful spirits, and an elasticity of mind that rose unsubdued from the repeated inflic-

tions of misfortune.

The satisfaction he experienced at Blois from the health and visible improvement of his chil-

dren forbade him to consider his retiring thither

in that light. The French language was ac-

quired with such facility by their young and

flexible organs, that it soon became necessary

to appropriate a day in the week to the remem-

brance and practice of their native English.

For this easy attainment of the foreign idiom. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 271 they were also much indebted to their constant intercourse with the owner of the cottage,

Madame des Combes, who reserved one apartment in it for herself, and was always ready to assist her lodgers with every little friendly office in her power.

Madame des Combes was, as the French say,

" cVailleuy's la meilleure Jemme dii moride,"* and possessed a very engaging simplicity.

On Mr. Sheridan's complimenting her on the strength of her eye-sight, which was such that she was able at a very advanced age to read and work without glasses, the old lady replied,

" That some time before they came to Blois, her eyes had begun to fail, and she had, in consequence, bought a pair of spectacles.

These were soon broken, and she was obliged to replace them with new ones. At length, having lost and broken a great many pair, she had given up the use of them altogether, and

" le bon Dieu," knowing her to be a widow, and unable to afford to buy any more spectacles, had graciously restored her sight." ;

272 MEMOIRS OF

She delighted in the children's company, and often took them with her to public worship for she could not be made to understand the differences in their religious opinions : and as whenever she had leisure in the week-days she liked to drop into the churches ^^ pour attraper un petit bout demesse" as she called it, she could not be persuaded but that it must be also an advantage to her young lodgers to hear it. In one respect her religious forbearance was put to a severe trial. Mr. Sheridan, in return for the civilities of Madame des Combes, used sometimes to invite her to dinner, and sometimes to send her part of any dish he knew she liked, from his own table. It would at times so happen that this dish was an excellent meat soup, and that Mr. Sheridan, from forgetfulness, sent it to his landlady on a Friday. On these occasions the servante de cuisine Manon, less hungry, or more zealous to observe the fasts of the church, would put it away with horror, exclaiming, "y///,

7imdamey c^est grasT*

* It is made of flesli or meat. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 273

The little old lady had then no other means

of reconciling her conscience but by pointing to

her ear, and exclaiming, "hem, hem!'* to signify

that she was deaf, and did not understand the intimation. Manon would then go up close to

her, and bawl in her ear, " Madame^ c'est gras," but could never get any other answer from her

mistress than " hem, hem !" to signify incurable

deafness, accompanied by another sign to put the soup upon the table.

It is here that I ought to mention a little inci-

dent, which a sentimental French writer could dress up into a very pathetic story.

Among the various pets that the children were allowed to keep, the eldest Miss Sheridan had a favourite lamb, whom she had compas- sionately purchased to rescue him from the knife of the butcher. This lamb, whose name was

Robin, was, during his nonage, the plaything of the whole family ; but Robin in time grew to be a sheep, and evinced symptoms of a mis- chievous disposition : he munched and destroyed a variety of things in the house, but his protec-

T :

274 MEMOIRS OF tress, unwilling to proceed to extremities, and still entertaining hopes he might reform, continued to keep hhn as when lie had been her favourite and innocent pet lamb. At length, however, Robin became so extremely trouble- some, that he was, unknown to his mistress, sent to a distance from the house. That very night, at about twelve o'clock, a most piteous bleating was heard at the door of the cottage this was Robin, who had found his way back to his gentle mistress again. Such an instance of attachment and dog-like sagacity wrought a wonderful change in his favour, and it was resolved not to banish him from the hospitable roof again. A few days afterwards, however, Robin was found to have extended his depredations to some sheets of Mr. Sheridan's Dictionary, fairly written out for the press. This last enormity was not to be forgiven ; again Robin was secretly disposed of. What his fate was, ever after remained a mystery, but it was suspected that he was restored to the original destina- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. " 275 tion from which he had once been rescued.

So strong was this impression upon the younger branches of the family, that for a considerable time they could not be prevailed on to touch a bit of mutton, lest they should happen unawares to dine upon a part of poor Robin.

Though Mr. Sheridan, upon retiring into

France, had adopted a plan of rigid economy, as the only one suited to the disordered state of his affairs, and his high and honourable deter- mination to indulge in no unnecessary expense, till he had enabled himself to satisfy the most impatient of his creditors, yet still he admitted to his plain but hospitable table such Englishmen as curiosity or inclination conducted to Blois.

Among the young travelling English of consideration, who with their tutors made any stay in that place, none omitted to pay their respects

to Mr. Sheridan ; and he had the consolation, in his adversity, to observe himself universally the object of that regard and attention which his talents and unimpeached conduct deserved. T 2 ;

276 MEMOIRS OF

The superior cheapness of living enabled him to indulge in this hospitality without transgressing the limits of economy. Flowers, fruits and creams, added an air of luxury to the feast and the guests, who met rather for the pleasure of friendly intercourse and conversation than the extravagant delicacies of the table, departed always satisfied with their entertainment and their host.

At these friendly meetings the story of their unfortunate countrywoman. Mademoiselle Hemin,

" the poor little English girl," was incidentally introduced by Mr. Sheridan ; and though he had in general a just objection to levying con- tributions upon others, he did not scruple on this occasion to call upon these rich and gene-

rous young Englishmen ; and a small subscription was set on foot, by which he had soon the pleasure of presenting to Mademoiselle Hemin

the sum of thirty pounds : a little fortune to this simple and self-denied being. In order that his children might not, by living in a Roman

Catholic country, forget or lose the religious

jnpressions in which they were brought up, it MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 277 was the custom of Mr. Sheridan, as soon as he had estabUshed order in his Httle household, to read the service of the Church of England every

Sunday in his own family : a service rendered additionally solemn and impressive by his excellent manner of delivery. This appeared to the English who visited Blois such an advantage, that they requested permission to join in

the family worship ; and thus Mr. Sheridan drew around him a small Protestant congregation, wlio met with the utmost seriousness and regularity.

At other times, however, differences of religion did not keep him apart from individuals ; and Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan found, even in persons of monastic habits, an exemption from prejudice, that led them cheerfully to cultivate their acquaintance. The children frequently visited some friendly nuns, with whom they made an interchange of little presents ; they went to school to some lay sisters, who were, however, bound by certain vows.* Mrs. Sheridan took

* They did not adopt tlie cloistral seclusion, but (hey

T 3 were 278 MEMOIRS OF

lessons in music from a Jesuit ; and one of their frequent visitors was Father Mark, an Irish- French Capuchin.

This Father Mark, a very young man, gave occasion for a hidicrous anecdote. We have already mentioned the lameness of Mrs. Sheri- dan, which rendered the support of an arm necessary whenever she took an extended walk.

This, so necessary support, was usually afforded

by her husband, or Charles her son ; it w^as also

her custom, in walking, to make use of an ivory- headed cane. One day, having neglected this precaution, and Mr. Sheridan being at some

distance from her, in an excursion they were

making in the environs of the town, Mrs. She-

ridan made a sign to Fatlier Mark, who was of

the party, to come over and give her his arm.

As he took no notice of this, she called him to

her, and repeated her request ; but the young

monk, drawing back with horror, exclaimed with a strong Irisli brogue, " My character, were bound to celibacy, and took a vow of devoting themselves to education and other good works. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 279

ma'am ! You don't consider my reputation."

Mrs. Sheridan, who sometimes was subject to absence of mind, had quite forgot the monastic etiquette, that forbade one of a reUgious profes-

sion to offer his arm to a woman ; and Father

Mark appears to have been one of that number of precisians who strain out a gnat and swallow a camel ; for soon after thus refusing his need- ful support to Mrs. Sheridan, lest he should endanger his reputation, he eloped from his convent, threw off the frock, and established himself in some secular employment in his native country of Ireland.

I have already mentioned, that there was a purity of mind and sincerity of manner about

Mrs. Sheridan, that rendered others unwilling to deceive her. A very singular instance of conscientiousness of this sort occurred during her residence at Blois. On her first settling there she had been visited by a lady, who went by the name of the widow of an English gentleman, and who was highly respected as such, for the excellence of her conduct. She was beautiful in person, and

T 4 280 MEMOIRS OF elegant in her manners, and a shade of melancholy thatshe never could conquer, only rendered her more interesting in the eyes of Mrs. Sheridan, who formed a speedy intimacy with her. Some time after this intercourse of friendship had taken place, the lady informed Mrs. Sheridan, with tears, that she repented having forced her friendship upon her, for that it was impossible to deceive her any longer. She was not what she appeared, nor deserving of the respect and estimation in which she was held at Blois by the deceived inhabitants. The unhappy lady then proceeded to state that she was by birth an

Englishwoman of good family, and engaged to marry a gentleman of equal rank and prospects

with her own ; but that he, after basely abusing the confidence reposed in him, had broken off with her when on the point of marriage, and only made an allowance for herself and daughter, on condition of her retiring into France under a borrowed name. Thus were the apparently fortunate prospects of this beautiful young creature blasted in a moment. Thrown ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 281 ofFby herjustly offended family, she had followed the cruel advice of her lover, who, at the time of her making this communication, enjoyed a high military rank in England, and regularly remitted to her the promised stipend. With one old and faithful servant, who was alone acquainted with the unhappy story, this lady had fixed upon Blois as the place of her retreat where for seventeen years she had conducted herself in a manner so exemplary, as to conciliate the respect of all the inhabitants ; and though from her beauty she had received several advantageous offers of marriage, she had steadily refused them, from a principle of honour, and also of perseverance in her first and ill-requited attachment. " Such a protracted period of suffering," resumed the lady, " in which I have endeavoured by strictness of conduct to retrieve the error of my youth, seemed, to myself, to give me a title to respect ; but there is something in you, madam, that forbids me to impose a faulty character for a virtuous one. Can you, after this candid confession, continue to me 282 MEMOIRS OF your friendship ?" It was not in a disposition like Mrs. Sheridan*s to refuse an appeal made under circumstances that admitted of so many

palliations ; she warmly assured her unfortunate countrywoman of the continuance of her good-will ; and this mutual regard continued unbroken till Mrs. Sheridan's death.

This forms, however, an exception, not an example, of Mrs. Sheridan's usual conduct in friendship. In general, the conscientiousness of her own mind forbade her forming an intimacy with any one, the purity of whose principles was not equal to her owui.

A lady whom she had highly regarded, lost her husband in America, by the cruel circumstance of his falling into the hands of the tor- turing savages, who inflicted on him before he expired the most dreadful torments. The widow, in the first agonies of grief and horror, upon receiving this shocking account, knelt down, and solemnly imprecated every sort of evil on her own head if she formed a second en- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 283

gagement ; she particularly prayed that she might die within the year.

Notwithstanding this, it will hardly be believed that, not very long after her first husband's death, this ill-fated lady was persuaded

to take another ! Mrs. Sheridan, justly shocked at the infringement of vows so solemnly attested, would never thenceforward hold any communication with her former friend. In concluding this anecdote, I hope it will not be considered as any encouragement to superstition to observe, that the lady died within the year she had herself assigned for the duration of her impious engagement.

Of French families, the only one with which Mr. Sheridan contracted any intimacy was that of Colonel Montigny, a Canadian, well-known as a sufferer in the cause of loyalty in the Ame- rican war. The intimacy was brought about in

a manner unforeseen by Mr. Sheridan ; but as the Colonel and his family, like himself^ occupied a house on the banks of the Loire, it was natural for it to take place. 284 MEMOIRS OF

The celebrated Colonel Montigny, after having expended, in the American -war of 17<56, a handsome property in the cause of French loyalty, had retired upon the cession of Canada, with impaired health and a reduced fortune, to end his days in France. His family consisted of a wife, three sons, and one daughter ; and the King, in consideration of his losses and services, had honoured him with the Cross of

St. Louis, and allowed him a pension, equivalent in England to about two hundred pounds a

year : a liberality which was much admired, being said to be the largest pension that had been ever accorded in France to mere merit.

As the house occupied by Mr. Sheridan was at but a small distance from Colonel Montigny's, his children often passed by the door of the

Colonel : who was not long in forming a particular intimacy with the youngest. He used frequently to stop, and make her little presents of sweetmeats, &c., at the same time that he often asked her questions respecting her parents and family. One day he missed her, and her MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 285 absence continuing for several mornings successively, he became uneasy for the health and welfare of his little friend.

The fact was as the good Colonel suspected.

Mr. Sheridan's youngest child, Miss Elizabeth

Sheridan, had been seized with an aguish complaint, very common at Blois, which confined her to her bed. The morning after Colonel

Montigny received this intelligence, Mr. Sheri-

dan, on going up to pay his usual visit to his sick child, found the seat by her bed-side occu-

pied by a tall, sun-burnt, military looking figure,

habited in a short jacket (a common morning

dress with French gentlemen), which did not

add much to the advantages ofhis appearance.

This was Colonel Montigny, the defender of

Canada, whom compassion had led to visit the

fevered couch of a suffering child. He had

found the doors open, as in those coiintries is

frequently the case from the warmth of the

climate, and as his little neighbour could no

longer visit him, had, with the French freedom

and friendliness of manner, come to pay her a 28G MEMOIRS OF visit in person. The Colonel rose courteously

at Mr. Sheridan's approach, and informed him of the friendship contracted in the open air

with his youngest daughter, which had led to

the present friendly visit. Such a combmation

of circumstances could not have taken place

in any country, where different manners pre-

vailed. This whimsical introduction was, how-

ever, productive of the happiest consequences,

and proved the commencement of an intimacy

equally agreeable to both parties. Madame Montigny had never recovered her

spirits from the loss of fortune her husband sus-

tained in America; she, however, found conso-

lation in the soothing society of Mrs. Sheridan.

Mademoiselle Montigny, her daughter, (after-

wards distinguished at Blois as a celebrated

belle) was all life and spirits. She was not at

that time beautiful, but had rather what may

be denominated a pretty and whimsical coun-

tenance ; with such a wonderful activity, that

Mr. Sheridan gave her, in allusion to her Indian

birth, and the oddity and suddenness of her MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 287 motions, the surname of " Friday." Tiiis was translated to Mademoiselle Montigny, who did

not understand a word of English : but still as she had never read Robinson Crusoe, she was as much in the dark as ever, and would often exclaim " Friday, c^est Vendredi : tnais pourquoi me donner le no7n de Vendredi—pourquoi pas

Samedi .'"' With this friendly group Mrs. Sheri-

dan passed many happy hours. vSometimes they

would go and partake of a little regale at a

fine garden Mr. Sheridan possessed at a small

distance from the cottage. On one of these

occasions Mrs. Sheridan, who, as I mentioned

before, possessed a fine voice, and an ear for

music, and who had improved by the instruc-

tions of her friend the Jesuit on the Spanish

guitar, sung to the company, accompanying the

guitar with her voice. Some persons in the

neighbouring garden, attracted by her perform-

ance, which was in an arbour, ranged themselves

on the wall to listen to her, and made a sign to

her youngest daughter not to betray them. 288 MEMOIRS OF

All that Mr. Sheridan anticipated from the effects of a milder climate on his wife appeared

to be happily realized : and such was the benefit

Mrs. Sheridan seemed to derive from the uncommon purity of the air, that during the first year of her residence at Blois she enjoyed better health than she had done for ten years before. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 289

CHAPTER IX.

Literary Occupations of Mrs. Sheridan resumed.—Critique on the Second Part of Sidney Biddulph. — Singular Origin of Nourjahad. —Miss Sophia Lee, Author of Canterbury Tales.—" Trip to Bath."—Examination into the reports about that Comedy.—Mr. Sheridan obliged to go to Ire- land. —Decline of Mrs. Sheridan's health. — Amiable disposition and resignation in her sufferings.—Religious bigotry of her attendants.— Trials of Mrs. Sheridan on her Death-bed.—Death—Respect paid by the French to her Remains.

Mrs. Sheridan availed herself of this inter-

val of returning health to renew her literary

occupations. In the space of two years she

conceived and executed the beautiful oriental tale of Nourjahad, and added two additional

volumes to the novel of Sidney Biddulph, which

were not published till after her decease. To

the two last volumes of Sidney Biddulph may

be applied much of the criticism which was

made upon the first part. u 290 MEMOIRS OF

We meet our old acquaintances Sidney and

Sir George again : with only those differences which we should observe in different portraits taken of the same individuals in youth or middle life. The additional personages introduced chiefly consist of the younger Faulkland, son of Orlando, the Audleys, the venerable Price

(who was only introduced in the preceding volumes), and the sweet characters of Mrs. Ar- nold's two daughters.

By many persons the second part of Sidney

Biddulph was preferred to the first ; as the production of a person who had acquired more extensive views of life, and a greater insight into character. Her talent for portrait-painting had

certainly improved ; and the following character of the younger Faulkland given by his friend

Sir Edward Audley, would not disgrace the most celebrated models of the country in which that style of writing was brought to perfection :

" It is harder to delineate the traces of this young man's mind than of any one's I have ever yet known. I have sometimes thought MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 291

this proceeded from the same cause that ex-

tremely dehcate faces are the hardest to be

drawn. He has no strong lines in his soul, and,

if I may use the expression, all the features of

it are faint. I do not think him capable of a

manly or steady friendship towards one of his

own sex, or of a violent or constant attachment towards one of yours ;" (the letter is addressed

to his sister) " yet is he the most engaging and agreeable companion in the world amongst men, and would, to a woman, appear a warm and sincere lover. —He likes pleasure, yet enters not into it with that juvenile ardour so natural to one of his age ; he even sometimes commits excesses, but it seems as if he were led into them more from the force of example than the strength of his passions. He is at times idle without being dissipated, and at others busy without being studious. He will deny no favour that you can ask of him : yet he appears not much obliged for those which are granted to him.—In short he does the best and the worst things with equal indifference. He loves u 2 292 MEMOIRS OF expence, yet he by no means despises mo-

ney ; and I have seen him generous and nig- gardly in the same hour ; hasty in forming resolutions, and as ready to break them. He has an infinite deal of vanity; but he has still more art in concealing it : and I believe that I am the first who ever discovered that he had either. With all this, he has very good sense, and an address, insinuating beyond any thing

I ever met with. His faults seem all complex- ional, so are his virtues too, for he is neither right nor wrong upon principle, and it appears a moot point whether nature intended him for an angel or a devil."—(Sidney Biddulph, vol. iv.) In this portrait, sketched in France, there are characteristic touches that might be compared for discrimination with those of a De Retz, or a

La Bruyere. But it is in the deathbed of the pious and sufliering heroine, in the closing scene of Sidney's eventful life, that the author sets her seal upon the whole, and illustrates her finely expressed moral, that it is in a future state of retribution alone, we can hope for an ex- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. '293 planation of the ways of Providence, and that there we shall see all apparently unequal dispensations justified, and all seeming inconsistencies reduced to rule. When every worldly comfort vanishes from the sufferer's view, we see Reli- gion, like a distant star, shining to light the pure and unpretending saint, to receive the rich reward long laid up for her virtues in Heaven.

Though the last moments of Sidney are accompanied by every circumstance of bitterness that the ingratitude of those she loved, and the disappointment of her fondest hopes cotdd impart, yet we find her firm and collected, and at the same time divested of none of her wonted tenderness. After a scene of most affecting pathos, which it would be injuring to attempt to abridge, she is in the midst of some affectionate injunctions to her remaining family, when the sudden and av/ful, yet blessed transition from life to death, or rather from a living death to life, is thus powerfully and impressively described.

" She stopped short, as if interrupted by some

sudden and extraordinary emotion ; a fine co- v3 294 MEMOIRS OF lour flushed at once into her face, and her eyes, which were before sunk and languishing, seemed in an instant to have recovered all their fire. I never saw so animated a figure ; she sprung forward with energy, her arms extended, her eyes lifted up with rapture, and with an elevated voice she cried out, * I come !* Then, sinking down softly on her pillow, she closed her eyes, and expired without a sigh."

Surely it rather increases than detracts from the interest with which this passage must be read by every pious mind, to learn that it was not the creation of fancy, but the actual death- bed of a lady whom Mr. Richard Chamberlaine attended in the Isle of Man in his medical capacity, and communicated the affecting particulars to his sister.

Alas ! she who could so well describe the last moments of expiring excellence, was shortly to be summoned from every tie that renders life endearing, to receive the reward of her own.

Mrs. Sheridan's last work was the oriental tale of Nourjahad. The plan was suggested to MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 295 her mind one sleepless night, when from reflecting upon the inequality in the conditions of men, she was led to consider that it is in the due regulation of the passions, rather than on the out- ward dispensations of Providence, that true happines or misery depends ; and she conceived the idea of the probable condition of a human being of a violent and perverse disposition, supposing his wealth to be inexhaustible, and his days extended to infinity. In fancy she beheld this being, possessed of the two greatest apparent goods, riches and immortality, yet devoid of any inward principle to restrain the unbounded

indulgence of his passions. Nourjahad finds in

those gratified, yet still importunate passions,

his tormentors, and the two blessings he had

impatiently coveted transformed into insup-

portable evils. As this idea acquired form and

consistency, Mrs. Sheridan represented it as

entering her mind like a kind of vision or

dream, between sleep and waking ; and though

this account is very extraordinary, persons of a

fertile and poetical imagination themselves. 296 MEMOIRS OF

will see nothing impossible in it. She commu-

nicated the sketch of the story the next morning

to her eldest daughter, whose promising talents

and opening mind Mrs. Sheridan began to take

great delight in cultivating. When, after the

death of the author, the romantic eastern tale of

Nourjahad appeared in print, Miss Alicia She-

ridan perfectly recollected this circumstance of

her mother's having related to her the outline

of the tale before it was thrown upon paper, as

complete as when it received its rich and inte-

resting colouring.

The tale of Nourjahad was originally intended

as the first of a series of instructive moral fic-

tions, which the author was to have obtained per-

mission to dedicate to His present Most Gracious

Majesty, then the young Prince of Wales. Like

Mrs. Sheridan's other works, Nourjahad has been dramatized. Miss Sophia Lee, author of the Canterbury Tales, Chapter of Accidents, &c., made a very elegant musical drama of it, which

she read to Mrs. H. Lefanu ; and another piece upon the same subject has been successfully brought upon the stage. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 297

It will be seen by the dates, and by the facts

in this narration, that the biographer of the

Right Hon. R. B. Sheridan, was quite mistaken

in fixing upon Windsor as the scene of the com-

position of Nourjahad.

" Windsor was a favourite place with his

(Mr. Sheridan's) wife, who called it the seat of her inspiration. She there completed two of her works, the romantic tale of Nourjahad, &c."

—Memoirs of the Public and Private Life of the

Right Hon. Richard Brinsley Sheridan^ vol. i. p. 110. By John Watldns, LL.D.

At this distance of time, when newer works have of course laid hold of the attention of the public, a detailed account of all the testimonies of popularity with which the first and second parts of Sidney Biddulph were received both in France and England, would appear

scarcely credible ; one or two anecdotes may be permitted to the affectionate remembrance of the author's family.

When Mr. Sheridan was at Bath, in 1771-^, an old gentleman of the name of Adams took a ;

S98 MEMOIRS OF particular liking to his son Richard Brinsley, and

shewed him many tokens of friendship j for this partiality he alleged as his original reason, not

(as was the case with most of Mr. Sheridan's acquaintances) the agreeable manners and promising talents of the youth, but his being " the son of the author of Sidney Biddulph." Many ladies, venerable for their years, and distinguished for their rank in society, showed attention to Mr. Sheridan's daughters from the same partiality to their mother's interesting work but the elder Mr. Sheridan received a more

flattering, because totally unintended compli-

ment to him on his wife's merit from another

quarter. The first editions of Sidney Biddulph were published without the author's name,

and therefore the person who addressed him

did not know him to have been the husband

of the writer she praised. This lady was a

lively talkative French woman, the wife of a

Parisian bookseller and publisher of the name

of De I'Ormel. She had come over with her pretty daughter to England, pow recueillir ime MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 299 succession, as tlie good man was unable to leave his business; but, like Lavinia Orthodox and her mother in the novel, who on a similar occasion received and spent the Doctor's legacy, one half in millinery, and the other half in the purchase of a spinet, Madame and Made- moiselle de rOrmel found the temptations of

London so numerous, that a great part of the money they were to receive was disbursed before their return to France. Having sufficiently amused themselves in London, it occurred to them that it would be a pity to leave

England without seeing Bath ; and there they iiad arrived to spend the remainder of the legacy, when they met Mr. Sheridan's family.

Madame de I'Ormel told Mr. Sheridan several anecdotes of her husband's business; by which it appeared, that he, having a just confidence in his wife's prudence, sometimes delegated the

care of the shop to her in his own absence.

On the last of these occasions, that business

required his taking a journey of some length,

he left her absolutely without money to keej) 300 MEMOIRS OF

the house; on her remonstrating with him

upon it, M. de TOrmel said, " I do not, in-

deed, leave you money, but I leave you mo-

ney's worth ; you will never want a supply.'*

And this representative of specie, c'ttoit un

nouveau roman, c^etoit Biddulphe. "Oui^''' con-

tinued Madame de I'Ormel, " ce sotit vos

Clarices, vos Biddulplies, those are the works

that bring in the money. I found my hus-

band's words true, and that I sold more copies

of Sidney Biddulph than of any other novel

upon sale."

Like all popular novels, Sidney Biddulph

formed a school. I have seen many works

written in the same style, but none that came

up to it, either in humour or pathos.

These are all Mrs. Sheridan's published works. In the printed letters of Mrs. Sheri- dan from France, mention is made of her having begun a tragedy in prose, upon part of the story contained in the two last volumes of

Sidney Biddulph ; but I can find no traces of such a tragedy. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 301

With her usual elas ticity of spirit, rising buoyant from disappointment, Mrs. Sheridan had written a comedy called •' A Trip to

Bath." This, Dr. Watkins says, was, after the

author's death, approved by Garrick, and shewn

to Murphy, who, by their joint recommen-

dation, prevailed on Dr. Johnson to read it.

Without stopping to point out that a piece which had been approved by Garrick, stood in

no need whatever of a last appeal to Dr.

Johnson, whose authority, in mere theatrical

matters, did not possess equal weight, it is a

sufficient contradiction to this anecdote to ob-

serve, that Mr. Sheridan was not on such terms

either with Murphy (who was but slightly

known to him), or with Johnson (with whom he

was at variance), as to have confided to their

perusal a manuscript play of his wife's after

his return from France. I rather suspect that

the reason this play never made its appearance,

was that the author did not live to give the

finishing touches to it ; and after her death

Mr. Sheridan's grief was too deep and sin- ;

302 MEMOIRS OF cere to allow him ever to attempt the painful task.

The time approached which was to overcloud at once all his flattering prospects of domestic happiness. Shielded from the numerous vexations that till now had attended him ; blest in be- holding his childi'en thrive, his wife's health apparently improve, and in the uninterrupted exercise of his mental faculties, the heart of Mr. She- ridan (never insensible to religious impressions) overflowed in gratitude to his Creator ; and he expressed in a letter to a friend (in a very different spirit from that which has been attributed to him), his conviction that " It is from religion alone we can hope for contentment in this life, or happiness in a future one." How short was the period that intervened between his making this discovery, and his being called upon for the utmost exercise of religious resig-

nation ! In the autumn of I766 it became necessary, from the state of Mr. Sheridan's aflairs, that he should make a visit to Ireland and it was arranged that Mrs. Sheridan should MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 303 remain at Blois with the children, till he had effected some more desirable arrangement. Mrs.

Sheridan felt the necessity of this separation, and acquiesced in it with apparent cheerfulness.

She laid down a plan for the employment of her time during her husband*s absence ; and, in the course of study on which she proposed to enter with her eldest daughter, promised herself the best compensation for his departure, whose cheering applause was wont to prompt and invigorate her more brilliant efforts. But all these appearances of satisfaction were fallacious. Till now, except in cases of necessity, and for short intervals, Mrs. Sheridan had been, in every vicissitude, the constant companion of

her husband ; and it is not to be doubted, but that the prospect of a long separation from him, and of being obliged to remain with her

children in a foreign land, the language of which she but imperfectly understood, and in

which she possessed but few intimate friends, preyed upon her mind, and occasioned a conflict between her incUnations and a sense of what ;

^04 :m e -m o I II s of

was right ; that, in the end, proved fatal to her health.

Mrs. Sheridan possessed a very mild temper, but at the same time extremely strong feelings and while the one prevented her giving utterance to complaint, the other tended to add keenness to every silently endured sorrow.

A few days before Mr. Sheridan's intended departure, Mrs. Sheridan was seized with a fainting fit ; and the debility continuing, it became necessary for her to be conveyed to her bed. She had been subject all her life to such seizures, but the unusual duration of this one, added to other alarming symptoms, rendered it necessary to call in a physician. The physician pronounced the attack to be of the nature of low fever, but saw no immediate danger. Still the solicitude of Mr. Sheridan induced him to give

up all thoughts of his journey ; and the rapidly increasing indisposition of his wife soon absorbed all other considerations, in the most agonizing apprehensions for her safety. From that time her strength rapidly and daily declined, but the MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 305 powers of her mind were in no way diminished or impaired.

Next to the awful preparation for death, which her virtues must have prevented her from dreading, however her earthly attachments might have made her wish to avert it, the mind of Mrs. Sheridan chiefly turned upon that object, which, whether in health or in sickness, had

ever been with her the first consideration : and she gave in her conduct a striking proof of the affection which had been the ruling principle of her life. Fearful that in this time of unavoid- able confusion, her husband's comfort might be neglected, she never omitted, during the course of this, her last illness, (which was protracted, in all, to about a fortnight,) to issue daily, from her sick bed, the necessary domestic

orders j evincing the same anxiety to procure the articles which he particularly liked, and in every point great or small to study his welfare and comfort, which had made her, in her days of health, as valuable as a directress of his X 306 MEMOIRS OF

household, as she was charming in the hght of

a friend and companion.

The remembrance of such endearing atten-

tions, as forming the suitable termination of a

life of undeviating duty and affection, must

have greatly increased the bitterness of that

inevitable separation which was now so very

near at hand. Until the day before her decease,

Mrs. Sheridan retained her senses ; but when it

was evident no hope remained, her children

were taken by their sympathising friends, the

Montignys, from the house.

As the owner of the house which she occu-

pied was a Roman Catholic, she thought it her

duty, at the height of Mrs. Sheridan's danger,

to inform the Cure, who, being a weak and

bigotted man, would have disturbed the last

moments of the dying with the performance of

the rites commanded by the Church of Rome.

His intention, however, was prevented by the

timely precautions of her ever kind and con- siderate friends. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 307

The eldest Miss Sheridan (AHcia), though

conveyed away from the house, had managed

to steal back unperceived, under the influence

of a feeling which irresistibly impelled her to

take a last look at the scene that contained the

object of her dearest affections. In the bed-

chamber of her dying mother, a singular spec-

tacle awaited her. Colonel Montigny had taken

his station in the room, to prevent the last

moments of the departing spirit from being

disturbed by the injudicious and unauthorized

intrusion of a Priest of a different religion, since

it was not possible to procure tlie consolations

of one of the Protestant faith. Mrs. Sheridan

knew her daughter ; and looking affectionately

towards her, articulated the words, " Ma chere

Jille /'* A remarkable circumstance, as she was

not, when in health, in the habit of speaking

the French language.

Soon afterwards, she became speechless, but

knew every one The day before her death

she was suddenly deprived of her senses, but X 2 308 MEMOIRS OF did not appear to suffer any pain. She expired* without a ffroan or strus^s^le, and closed at the age of forty-two years a Hfe, which, as it had been from the moment of her marriage, the brightest pattern of connubial affection, might be considered, in some degree, to have fallen at length a sacrifice to that prevailing principle.

To her husband her loss was, to use his own eloquent expression, " The most fatal event

tliat could befall liim in this life ; what the world could not repair— a bosom friend—another self." His children*s loss he justly considered as, if possible, a greater calamity. They were just entering upon that critical period of youth which most demands and requires a

mother's care ; and no mother was ever more adrairablv calculated to watch over and direct the pursuits of a young and rising family.

The symptoms of Mrs. Sheridan's malady, until within a day or two of her death, had

* August 17G6, not 1767, as erroneously stated in the

" General Biographical Dictionary." MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. S09

been apparently so inadequate to produce a

fatal termination, that her afflicted husband was induced to take the necessary steps to ascertain

whether some latent derangement of the system

had not accelerated her dissolution. The result

of this enquiry was, that the whole art of medi-

cine could not liave prolonged her days ; as all

the noble parts were attacked, and any one of

four internal maladies must have proved mortal.

From this conviction Mr. Sheridan seemed to

derive a melancholy consolation. The same bigotry and prejudice that would

(if not prevented) have disturbed the last moments of Mrs. Sheridan with the exhortations

of a religion which she disclaimed, operated

also against her remains, as a Protestant, being

suffered to repose in a Roman Catholic burial-

ground ; and the affection of Mr. Sheridan gave

him an invincible antipathy to consigning to

the earth a person so dear to him, in the uncere-

monious manner with which Protestants were

interred. But here again he met with the sup-

port of that friendliness which I have already

X 3 ;

."^510 MEMOIRS OF

had occasion to notice. Another mihtary man,

as zealous and as kind as Colonel Montigny,

(Colonel de Maupas,) obtained permission from

a French Protestant family of consequence in

the neighbourhood, to have the remains of

Mrs. Sheridan deposited in their own cemetery,

about six or seven miles distant from Blois.

The procession was at night, and by torch-light,

to avoid any opposition on the part of the

ignorant populace. It was escorted by a party of Colonel Maupas' dragoons, and attended by

Mr. Sheridan and his son, Charles Francis

who afterwards returned and remained at the

house of the compassionate Colonel de Maupas,

while Colonel Montigny's family took charge

of his two daughters.

The humanity and liberality of sentiment

evinced by these two foreigners on this occa-

sion, both military men, and one wearing the

cross of the military order of St. Louis (there-

fore Roman Catholics themselves), deserves a

particular record ; and was only to be equalled

by the kindness shown by every individual con- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 311

nected with them, to Mrs. Sheridan's surviving family.

Such were the marks of respect paid to Mrs.

Sheridan's memory, in the land which, although a foreign one, had admired her talents, and had witnessed her virtues. She was now removed to that sphere where the incense of human applause could no longer gratify, where the cares of human life could no longer assail her.

To that sphere, where alone those faculties which she had always devoted to the worthiest purposes, could attain their complete expansion, and those virtues which had proved the blessing of all connected with her, were at length to receive their full reward.

x4 —

312 M E M O 1 11 S OF

CHAPTER X.

Addition to tlie Memoirs of r.Irs. Frances Sheridan —He- marks upon a passage in Dr. Watkins. — ?vlr. Thomas Sheri- dan and Dr. Johnson.—The late Marquis Townshend. Garrick. — Changes in the public taste.—Boswell—Original Anecdote of Lord Auchinleck—Original Anecdote of Boswell and His late Majesty George the Third. — The Man of Feeling. — Anecdote of Dr. Johnson.

I HAVE now (properly speaking) brought the

" Memoirs of Mrs. Frances Sheridan " to a

close ; but in looking over other publications,

particularly the " Memoirs of the public and

private Life of the Right Honourable R. B.

Sheridan," in order to avoid useless repetitions,

1 have observed so many circumstances relative

both to Mr. Thomas Sheridan and his son

Richard Brinsley, stated in a manner different

from what his family know to be the true one,

that this work might have justly been deemed MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 313 incomplete without the correction of such mis- statements.

A biographer, however honest his intentions,

7nust fall into numerous errors, who has not had the advantage of communication with the surviving relatives of those whose lives he under- takes to wn'ite, and who can alone furnish him with the means of distinguishing truth from falsehood. Every fact that I am preparing to give, is either from the statement of Mrs. H.

Lefanu, the only survivor of Mr. T. Sheridan's

once numerous family, sister of R. B. Sheridan,

and who was an eye and ear witness of the

circumstances, or derived from documents of

the most undoubted authenticity ; and which

will leave not a suspicion upon the correctness

of the anecdotes related.

It has been remarked by Dr. Johnson, that

" Many things which are false are transmitted

from book to book, and gain credit in the

world." In this maxim I think I can perceive the

cause of the following mistatement that occurs

in Dr. Watkins's Memoirs of R. R. Sheridan, 314« MEMOIRS OF

pages 144^ and 145. The elder Mr. Sheridan is

there accused, when disappointed in his plan of

interesting the government for the scheme of

national education, of being " weak enough to

exercise his pen and his tongue in abusing the

depravity of the people, and the corruption of

the state. He did not even spare the throne

to which he was so much indebted ; and when

the dispute with America began to wear a

serious aspect, he threatened to carry the bless-

ing of his intellectual refinement across the

Atlantic for the illumination of that country.'*

Now this accusation, coupled as it is with the

then peculiar circumstances of the times, and

Mr. Thomas Sheridan's peculiar obligations to

government, carries with it a very serious

aspect indeed, and such a one as every honest

mind must be anxious to repel, for the sake of

a relation whose memory is dear to them.

Such conduct would exhibit an instance of complicated baseness and ingratitude, which would entitle Mr. Sheridan to forfeit the character he never compromised in a single instance MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 315

of his life, that of a man of honour ; it is necessary, therefore, to sift it to the bottom; and upon such investigationthe foundation of the story is to be found in the following passage of Boswell's Johnson, given in the dramatic form of dialogue, in which that author delighted.

" Upon being told that old Mr. Sheridan in- dignant at the neglect of his oratorical plans had threatened to go to America.

" Johnson. I hope he will go to America.

" BoswELL. The Americans don't want oratory.

" Johnson. But we can 'want Sheridan."

The attentive reader will observe, that the biographer of Richard Brinsley Sheridan has in his statement implicitly copied the word

" threatened'* from Boswell's Johnson.

Boswell was desirous of preserving this trifling play upon the word warit^ as signifying either to desire, or to do uithout ; and to accomplish that purpose, he did not hesitate to give stability and currency to a false report, injurious alike to the moral character and good :

Sl6 MEMOIRS OF

sense of the elder Mr. Sheridan : but how

little he is deserving of credit, when treating

of any individual except his "illustrious friend,"

has by this time been sufficiently ascertained.

The fact is, Mr. Sheridan's merit was well known and considered in America.* A plan embracing such extensive and important interests as his, was remarkably calculated to attract the attention of a coimtry of freedom, full of minds distinguished by energy and the spirit of enquiry. Ardent in the cause of education to the last, Mr. Sheridan, a very few years before his death, had planned a series of works on the English language, on a regularly progressive scale ; to begin with the simplest elements of English luitil brouglit up to his

Dictionary, which he considered only as the finishing part of a much more extensive plan.

Ill health and various disappointments prevented

* That country to which may be applied the bard's beautiful apostrophe

" The nations have fallen, and thou still art young;

Thy sun is but rising, when others are set." MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 317 the complete execution of this idea; but some of the elementary parts of the work were printed off, and the well-known Granville Sharpe, who was his friend, had engaged to distribute several thousand copies in America; but this proof of a popularity which it is the aim of every author to attain, ought not to be wrested into a conclusion inimical to the character of Mr.

Sheridan.

HowevQi' disappointed Mr. Sheridan might be in the hopes held out to him respecting his plan of education, he was incapable of acting or speaking in the manner attributed to him in the "Memoirs of the Right Honourable

Richard Brinsley Sheridan.'* His late Majesty was never mentioned by him but in terms of gratitude and respect. His pen never was applied to the purpose of abuse. It is true that he occasionally wrote on the subject, he had so much at heart, British education, in

some of the public papers. As the transcriber

of almost all he wrote of tliat kind, Mrs. H. 318 MEMOIRS OF

Lefanu is authorized to speak on the subject with certainty. As to a menace of going to

America, nothing can be more absurd than the assertion. Mr. Sheridan sometimes said that were he many years younger he should like to visit that country.

In the following page (146), the same accusation is repeated with a slight variation of the words.

" The same year and the next (1770), he

(Mr. Sheridan) performed several times at that house (Foote's Theatre), on a sharing concern, as he afterwards did one season at Covent

Garden, on similar terms ; but the imprudence of his conduct in vilifying the very source from which he drew his principal support gave so much offeiice^ that the London theatres were shut against him by command.'*

The theatres were not shut against Mr. Sheri- dan by command ; Government had nothing to do with the business. Drury Lane was shut against him, because, although Mr. -Garrick MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 319 oflfered him the highest terms as an articled actor, he never would consent to the only kind of engagement Mr. Sheridan would make—that of performing upon shares.

The rest of the paragraph is unfortunately not more correct.

" On this he travelled as a lecturer, and visited Dublin, where he received a flattering mark of distinction in having for his pupils the

Hon. George Grenville and his brother, who were sent over accompanied by their tutor, the late Dr. William Cleaver, Bishop of St. Asaph, to study elocution under Mr. Sheridan."

As our aim is truth, and not to represent

Mr. Thomas Sheridan as either more or less favoured for his merit than he really was, we feel it our duty to disavow this mark of distinction ascribed to him, as readily as we should repel any false statement to his disadvantage.

It is not fact that the late Marquis of Buck- ingham and Mr. T. Grenville were sent to Ire- land to be placed under his care. It was

during Mr. Sheridan's residence at Bath that 320 MEMOIRS OF

the late Marquis of Buckingham came with his

tutor Dr. Cleaver from Oxford, and was for

some time his pupil.

The following year he came again for the same purpose, and was then accompanied by

his brother Mr. T. Grenville, who visited Bath

merely for amusement. Mr. T. Grenville was

never Mr. Sheridan's pupil. At the close of

the summer, both gentlemen, with Dr. Clea-

ver, went to Ireland on a tour of pleasure. It

happened that Mr. Sheridan and his family went at the same time ; and this, it is probable, gave rise to the false report of their being

sent to Ireland purposely to receive instructions

from him.

With respect to the remainder of the asser-

tion in page 14G, Mr. Sheridan never travelled as a lecturer. We sliall examine the propriety

of this expression more at large in another place.

The next paragraph I think it necessary to notice is this—

" Soon after the grant of a pension to She- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 321

ridan, Johnson made use of some strong ex-

pressions on the occasion, reflecting aUke on

the minister and the object of his favour, which

the latter never forgave ; yet, by a very strange inconsistency, he affected to take credit to himself for being the instrument of procuring a similar grant to the Doctor. In this, however, his vanity assumed what is too improbable to be

believed : for his influence was never of that magnitude to give him a privilege of recommending men of talents to court favour." —

Memoirs of the Right Hon. Richard Brinslei/

Sheridan^ j). 152.

Now "improbable" as this appears to the

Biographer, the fact is certainly true. Mr.

Sheridan did not pretend to the power of recommending persons immediately to court favour, but he was the Jirst who mentioned the distress and merit of Dr. Johnson to Mr. Wed- derburne, afterwards Lord Loughborough, who mentioned it to Lord Bute, by whose influence a pension was conferred on Johnson of tlu-ee hundred pounds a year. Had the Biographer

y ;

322 MEMOIRS OF

consulted Boswell's Johnson with equal dili-

gence on this^ as on other occasions, he would

have found this statement confirmed in the fol-

lowing words.

" When I spoke to Lord Loughborough,

wishing to know if he recollected the prime

mover in the business, he said, " all his friends

assisted ;" and when I told him that Mr. Sheri-

dan strenuously asserted his claim to it, his

Lordship said, ^^ Sheridan rang the bell.'"

" It is but justice to add,*' continues Boswell,

" Mr. Sheridan told me, that when he communi-

cated to Dr. Johnson that a pension was to be granted him, he replied in a fervour of grati-

tude, ' The English language does not afford me terms adequate to my feelings on this oc-

casion : I must have recourse to the French

I am penetre with His Majesty's goodness.'

When I repeated this to Dr. Johnson he did not contradict it."

Earlier in the same work, we have Boswell's assurance that "the great fame of his Dictionary had not set Johnson above the necessity of MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 3^3 making provision for the day that was passing over him."

" No royal or nobie patron extended a mu- nificent hand, to give independence to the man who had conferred stabihty on the language of his country.'*

What no royal or noble patron tliought it worth his while to do, Mr. Sheridan laboured to the utmost of his little power to cause to be effected.

When his acquaintance with Johnson began,

Johnson's health and means of living were both still precarious. The labour of the Dictionary had considerably increased the weakness of one of his eyes, and he was often assailed with dis- mal forebodings respecting the loss of the other.

Under these circumstances, Mr. Sheridan did what few men in any station have been found capable of doing. Possessing the ear of a friend of the ministers, instead of representing his own unprovided situation (it was at this time that, after the destruction of his theatre, he was labouring in London to support a wife y2 —

324 M E M O I 11 S OF

and young family by liis honourable exertions), he mentioned the case of a man whose necessities were, in his opinion, greater than his own,

and had the satisfaction of being the joyful bearer of the tidings of royal munificence to the

distressed object of it.

Such noble conduct was not suffered to go un-

rewarded ; and a few months afterwards a pen-

sion, hilt of inferior value, was conferred by the

same royal hand upon Mr. Sheridan.

What was Johnson's first emotion upon hear-

ing that the man who had pointed out and re-

commended his merit, was also distinguished by

a mark of royal favour—an exclamation the

most injurious that w^as perhaps ever dictated

by the spirit of malignity and pride ; one that

makes us sigh over the weakness of human

nature when we find that even a mind such as

Johnson's could fall so low

" What, have they given him a pension ? then

it is time for me to give up mine /"*

* It was not thus that Mr. Sheridan's merit was rated by

others. When, after the death of his lamented wife, Mr.

Sheridan MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 325

Those who affirm tliat Mr. Sheridan, on its being repeated to him ought to liave overlooked this insult, because Johnson, aftera pause, added,

Sheridan went to Ireland in the autumn of 1766, His Excel- lency the Marquis of Townshend, then Lord Lieutenant, was pleased to send for him expressly, and to ask why he did not see him oftener at the castle. Mr. Sheridan replied, he would have gone oftener had he supposed his paying his duty there would be acceptable. His Excellency resumed,

" Mr. Sheridan, since 1754 we are your debtors; nothing has been done for you in Ireland, where you risked and suffered so much." The Marquis then offered Mr. Sheridan commis- sions in the army for both his sons, which he, having other views for them, respectfully declined. He, however, put

Mr. Sheridan's two daughters upon the Concordatem, a provision sufficient to defray the expences of their education

while they enjoyed it, which was not above four years ; it

being then unfortunately lost for want of renewing the cus-

tomary application. After these steps, the Viceroy turned

to Lady Townshend whet was present, saying, " I put Mr.

Sheridan's interests into your hands; if in the hurry of

business I should forget him, be it your province to remind

me of them." It was in London that Mr. Sheridan learned

the afflicting news of the death of the first excellent Lady

Townshend, and judged, too justly, that his hopes of advan-

tage in that quarter were over. y3 :

3^26 MEMOIRS OF

" However, I am glad that Mr. Sheridan has a pension, for he is a very good man," must have very httle knowledge of human nature, or make very little allowance for the finest feelings connected with it. Johnson's first exclamation

was the spontaneous burst of his real sentiments ; and as such must be ever considered as most offensive to a man who was a fellow-labourer in the cause of elegant literature with himself.

" Injuries," says Junius, "may be atoned for and forgiven, but insults admit of no compen-

sation ; they degrade the mind in its own esteem, and force it to recover its level by revenge."

And what was the extent of Mr. Sheridan's revenge on this occasion ? simply avoiding any further opportunities for a repetition of such offensive conduct, by shunning the society of a man who was capable of treating him so un- worthily. In a life of Cook, published a few years ago, it is very properly observed

" The late Mr. Thomas Sheridan's declining any correspondence with Johnson, after the MRS. FRANCIS SHERIDAN. 3^7 impudent and illiberal expression respecting his pension, shewed a just, proper, and manly resentment."

Yet this purely negative conduct is what is stigmatized by the biographer of R. B. Sheri- dan as "haughty demeanour and uncivil behaviour," and more pointedly condemned in the following paragraph.

*' Dr. Johnson made frequent overtures for a renewal of that intimacy which had formerly subsisted between him and Sheridan, but they

wereViost ungraciously repelled : and, one day when the Doctor was engaged to dine with Mr,

Dilly the bookseller, Sheridan who was also invited, left the house immediately upon hearing into whose company he was about to be ushered.'*

In answer to this I am happy to be able to produce a case in point from Davies's Life of

Garrick, in which Garrick's conduct was exactly similar, and no one ever attempted to cast a shadow of blame on him in coiiseqiience.

Y 4 3'28 MEMOIRS OF

Mr. James Ralph, the poHtical writer, had a most unfortunate mania for the drama, and was continually teasing Garrick to give him en-

couragement to write for the stage ; this, Gar- rick, having already experienced his incapacity,

would not do ; but having a real friendship for the irascible author, he prevailed upon the minister, Mr. Pelham, to settle a pension upon him of two hundred pounds per annum. Such conduct, it should be supposed, ought to have

insured Ralph's eternal gratitude ; but the effect was so much the contrary, that in a subsequent publication, entitled the " Case of Authors by

Profession," he attacked his benefactor with the most illiberal abuse, sparing neither his moral nor dramatic character. The only reason for this, that could be surmised, was the Mana- ger's refusing some comedy or farce which Mr.

Ralph was anxious should be represented.

The consequence was what might naturally

have been expected ; Mr. Garrick never spoke to him afterwards, and refused to be in any MRS. FRANCIS SHERIDAN. 329 company where he might have the chance of meeting him. Being invited to dinner by

Lord Camden, he accepted the invitation with pleasure, but when he was told that Mr. Ralph was to be one of the guests, Mr. Garrick begged to be excused, for he declared he 'would not sit in company with the most ungrateful man in the kingdom,*

* Perhaps the title and matter of Ralph's " Case of Au- thors by Profession," suggested those of the modern publications, " Calamities of Authors," and essays on " The

Literary Character."

It is amusing to observe the mutations of fashion—Mr.

Ralph did bring one comedy upon the stage of Drury Lane, entitled The Astrologer; and though it was assisted by

Garrick's friendly efforts, it met with a total failure. Upon which Davies makes the following observations, which were, no doubt, thought at the time very pertinent.

" The acting of Albumazar, the original from whence his beloved Astrologer was taken, gave him uneasiness which nothing could remove but the ill success of that play. In- deed, we may venture to presage that such will be the fate of these old dramatic pieces, all of which bear such marks of ancient and forgoUcn manners and customs, that they cannot, without being entirely refitted, please the present generation.

" I would 330 MEMOIRS OF

To Ml-. Boswell himself, Mr. Sheridan had

ever been a constant, hospitable, and steady

friend. On occasion of a misunderstanding be-

tween that gentleman and his father, Lord

Auchinleck, which threatened a total breach

between them, Mr. Sheridan had the pleasure of

acting as mediator, and effecting a perfect re-

conciliation. Mr. Boswell has acknowledged

his friend's kindness in many parts of his great

" I would be understood always to except the works of

Shakespeare, which being founded on that nature which will

be eternally the same, and not dependant upon variable fashion and local custom, must please as long as our language

shall last."

Since Tom Davies wrote this criticism, a Genius has arisen,

and effected a total revolution in public taste. A modern

dramatic piece, entitled The Astrologer, has been received

with applause. The historical romance has been revived,

adorned with livelier and more unfading colours, and cul-

tivated with distinguished success ; and we stand a fair

chance of being initiated in a most agreeable and entertain-

ing way,— in the many disused "customs," "ancient and for-

gotten manners," and " local superstitions of our ancestors."

Such total changes in opinion, render books written some

time ago the more amusing to an observing mind. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 331

work ; but, in others, his constant desire to

elevate the character of Johnson above that of

all his contemporaries, has betrayed him into very invidious and unfair attacks upon Mr.

Sheridan's character.*

James Boswell was a most entertaining Biogra-

pher, (he has not formed a school) but in his pri-

vate conduct he was often deficient in tact, or

was possessed of a surprising degree of " modest

assurance ;" an observation which the following

anecdote, communicated from unexceptionable

authority, will amply justify.

* It appears that James Boswell could never create in his father and wife an equal relish with his own for Dr. Johnson's

society.

Expressing himself to his father in enthusiastic admiration

of that great man, he exclaimed, " Oh, Sir ! he is in himself a

constellation of talents !"' " A Constellation !" repeated the

" the honest old lord ; Then by my saul, mon, he maun be

!" Great Bear

" I have seen," said the provoked but much enduring

" Margaret Boswell, many a bear led by a man ; but you,

James, are the first man I ever knew that suffered himself to

be led by a bear." 33^ MEMOIRS OF

When Boswell was about to publish his " Tour to the Hebrides," having a communication of a

political nature to make previous to its seeing the light, he adopted the unceremonious method of calling upon the highest personage in the kingdom for the above mentioned purpose. The illustrious personage sent him word he should see him at the levee. Accordingly, Boswell dressed and took his station in the circle. When it came to his turn to be spoken to, he announced to His Majesty the work he intended to publish, and said his motive in doing so was in order to know in what manner he was to 7iame a person he should have occasion to mention in the course of his narrative.

That to call him the Pretender was what he could not think of doing, as it was against his principles ; that to name him the Chevalier St.

George was awkward, it being a title that did

not in reality belong to him ; in this dilemma he wished to have His Majesty's commands upon the subject. *' Nay," said the King, " call him what you please." " I may say then," resumed MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 333 the author, " that I have your Majesty's sane- tion for styling him ' The unfortunate grandson of James the Second.'"—The King made no reply to the disrespectful and indiscreet pertinacity of Bosvvell, but immediately passed on to the next person in the circle.

In general, Boswell certainly deserves as little as any writer the imputation of *' marring a curious tale in telling it ;" yet in one truly *' curious" anecdote that he has related, he has, either through ignorance or inattention, omitted a material circumstance that greatly enhanced its interest. It relates to the dispute concerning the real author of " The Man of Feeling." Boswell tells us, — " Some years ago a little novel entitled

* The Man of Feeling,' (what a manner of describing that original and beautiful work !) was assumed by Mr. Eccles, a young clergyman, who was afterwards drowned near Bath. He had

been at pains to transcribe the whole book, with

blottings, interlineations and corrections, that

it might be shewn to several people as an

original. —

334f M E M O I II S OF

" It was in truth the production of Mr. Henry

Mackenzie, an attorney, in the Exchequer, at

Edinburgh, who is the author of several other

ingenious pieces ; but the belief with regard to

Mr. Eccles became so general that it was thought

necessary for Messrs. Strahan and Cadell to

publish an advertisement in the newspapers,

contradicting the report, and mentioning tliat

they purchased the copyright of Mr. Macken-

zie." Bosxvell's Johnson, vol. i. pp. 343, 344. Edit, of ISll.

Here is, indeed, a strange instance of literary

forgery, and misdirected literary ambition. The

anecdote is true as far as it goes, but Boswell

omitted to mention a striking circumstance

attending the death of the unfortunate Mr.

Eccles. He was drowned in the Avon, in

consequence of an attempt to save the life of a

child who had fallen into that river. His perish-

ing thus, a victim to an act of humanity, con-

firmed to his memory at Bath, until his literary fraud was detected, the name which he had

obtained during his lifetime, in consequence of MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 835 the work falsely attributed to him —that of " The Man of Feeling/'

Another story, which Boswell, I think, has spoiled, relates to the death of Dr. Johnson.

The words attributed to the doctor were (cor-

rectly) as follow.

The day before Johnson died, a friend of his sent a man to assist the person wlio was already in attendance in sitting up with him. The next day this friend called, and said he hoped that the person he sent had been vigilant and active in the discharge of his duty. Johnson, with a wonderful gleam of his wonted forcible manner, replied,—" Why, Sir, the fellow had the vigi- lance of a dormouse ; and the activity of a !" turnspity the first time he is put into the wheel

Any reader who will take the trouble of con- sulting the last pages of Boswell, will find that he has unaccountably suffered the spirit of this

anecdote to evaporate. —

3SC) M E M O I R S OF

CHAPTER XL

General Paoli.—Paoli and Napoleon Buonaparte.—Misre-

presentation respecting the late Right Hon. 11, B. Sheridan. —Louisa Bellenden Kerr Mr. Sheridan and Rasselas. Domestic life of the elder Mr. Sheridan.—Mr. Sheridan's theatrical respectability.—The Kildare Street club — Ma- nager Heaphy.— Anecdote of a beautiful young Actress. Contradiction of a saying imputed to the elder Mr. She- ridan Mrs. Vesey's conversaziones.—Original anecdote of Dr. Johnson.—Tributes to the merit of the elder Mr. Sheridan.— His hopes nearly being realized in Ireland. Disappointment. —Decease. —Refutation of the statement in the Memoirs of R. B. Sheridan, respecting the funeral of Mr. Sheridan. — Mrs. Siddons.

On Mr. Sheridan's return from France,

and settling in London, he took a house iu

Frith-street, Soho, where he lived in habits of

intimacy with Topham Beauclerc, Wedder- burne, Frazer, Boswell, the celebrated Foote, and others distinguished in the memoirs of those times for merit, literature, or extraordinary powers of entertaining.

In the year I769, Mrs. H. Lefanu, then a MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 337

child, remembers a thin eager-looking young- man, in black, who talked a great deal about

General Paoli. Mr. Sheridan said to him, in his good-humoured way, *' I suppose you are in mourning for Corsica?'* to which he answered in the affirmative. This was James Boswell.

After Corsica had been overpowered by the monarchy of France, the distinguished General

Paoli, no longer at the head of his brave countrymen, had with difficulty escaped from his native land, and sought an asylum in England.

Here he was welcomed by Boswell, who, in

1765, had received great civilities from him at his palace in Corte. Boswell was now endeavouring to repay these civilities by dancing attendance upon the veteran hero of war, as he had previously done upon the hero of literature.

Indeed, James Boswell seems to have had a great deal of the lion-dealer in his disposition. He introduced the General to whatever was remarkable in the way of talent and literature. On being presented to Mr. Sheridan, Paoli addressed

z 33S ]\I E IM O I R S OF

to him this flattering observation : " Monsieur^ on voit dans vos ccrits le veritable eleve de Swift." A discriminating compliment, which shewed not only that tlie illustrious foreigner had read and admired the works of Mr. Sheridan, but that he was sufficiently master of the English language (though he spoke it with difficulty,) to distinguish the different modes of compositio7i and beauties of style.

Being, as I have already represented, in the

habit of entertaining the distinguished charac-

ters of the age, Mr. Sheridan promised himself

the gratification of giving a dinner to General

Paoli. Boswell, delighted with shewing about

another " illustrious friend," assured him the

General was most desirous of cultivating his

acquaintance, and would accept such a civility

with pleasure ; but such was the universal de-

sire to enjoy the company, of this genuine hero,

tliat he found it necessary to decline particular

invitations, lest in obliging some he should give

offence to others ; so Mr. Sheridan missed the — ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 339 gratification of seeing the patriot at his hospitable board.*

To return to the " Memoirs of the Right

Hon. Richard Brinsley Sheridan.'' The following paragraph deserves particular notice, as being founded wholly upon misinformation.

*' Shortly after his (Richard Brinsley's) final removal from school, he went upon a visit to some friends at Bristol, where his narrow allowance impelled him to have recourse to invention for the supply of his necessities ; in consequence of which he departed from that city in silence, and with precipitancy." JVatkms, vol. i. p. I67.

From whatever source he derived this story

* Before I dismiss the subject of General Paoli, I may be permittett to mention the anecdote, that, almost thirty years afterwards, at Bath, when the fame of his wonderful country- man, Buonaparte, was the topic of discourse, Paoli observed to Miss Lee, author of " The Canterbury Tales," that he was godfather to two or three of the Buonaparte family but as none of them bore his name (Pascal), he was not certain whether Napoleon might be one of the number or not whether or not the defender of his country's liberties had to

answer for the sins of the enemy of the liberties of mankind !

Z 2 340 MEMOIRS OF of the excursion to Bristol, Dr. Watkins may rest assured it is a complete fabrication. On his leaving Harrow school, Richard Brinsley, with his brother, who was just returned from France, became an inmate of his father's house on the

King's Road, Chelsea; from whence they removed in the winter to his house in London, where they resided nearly two years. During this time both the young men were regularly attended by Mr. Kerr, a gentleman who once practised as a physician, but who, upon being obliged by loss of health to quit his profession, supported himself by giving instructions in Latin and the mathematics.* Charles Sheridan, and

* However unwilling unnecessarily to step forward, or to hurt the feelings of individuals labouring, perhaps, under unmerited distress, justice here obliges the author to notice a case that came to her knowledge through the Morning

Chronicle of October the 17th, and afterwards, 1823, in which the sufferer threw upon the memory of the late Right

Honourable Richard Brinsley Sheridan the most unmerited reproach. A number of readers must be aware that I allude to the letters of Louisa Bellenden Kerr. There, it is

asserted MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 341

his brother Richard Brinsley also, attended Mr.

Angelo's fencing and riding school; while from

asserted that Mr. Kerr (the father of the letter-writer, and

the person mentioned in the text, " while rising to the

height of eminence in his profession, had unfortunately

contracted a most intimate friendship with the celebrated

Brinsley Sheridan, and was fatally induced, by the fascina-

tion of his eloquence and professions of friendship, to in-

trust in his hands not only thefar greater part of his property,

but the only documents in existence of his birth and family

claims ; both of which were, in consequence, irretrievably

lost." The writer, who, in another place, styles herself " the

only surviving descendant of the late Duke of Roxburgh's

family, and of Hugh Bellenden Kerr," proceeds to state that

her father's " insolvency and total ruin soon followed ;" and

that, " after being long amused with flattering hopes and

delusive promises, and finally denied all admittance to the

faithless friend, for whose service he had sacrificed all his oivn

and hisfamily s hopes and prospects in Ife, his mind was over-

powered by the acuteness of his feelings, and he sunk into a state of melancholy despondence, which totally incapacitated him from the duties of a profession that was become " his only dependence." The " documents and family claims are afterwards more precisely stated, in a letter intended for the eye of his Majesty, to be " a forfeited estate, now in the occupation of a distant branch of the family in Ireland,

Z 3 and 31'2 MEMOIRS OF their flitlier they received daily instructions in the study of their own language. These details and a pension of one hundred and fifty pounds a year on the

Irish estabUshment, for life."

Although subsequent disclosures must have tended, I presume, considerably to shake the credit of the fair writer, yet, if one mind was influenced, if one additional calumny against Mr. Sheridan gained force by her assertions, it will not be unuseful to trace that calumny to its spring, and to shew how utterly destitute of a syllable of truth is the whole fabrication. Others may tliink, and justly, that a dignified

silence is the best reply to such ridiculous accusations ; but* in a work, in which the relations of the late unfortunate Mr.

Kerr with the Sheridan family come naturally under review, such a silence on the author's part would be a cowardly desertion of the task she has imposed on herself; and she is happy to be able, from authority of the most unquestionable correctness, to give a positive and total contradiction to every part of the preceding assertions.

When ?vlr. Kerr first became known to the elder Mr.

Sheridan, which was previous to the year 1764, in which

the family went to France, he practised as a physician ; but,

an unfortunate illness having ended in total derangement of

intellect, so as to require confinement, he was of course

incapacitated from following his profession.

Thus, the event which Miss Kerr laments, and attributes

to MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 343 it is necessary to enter into, on account of the

erroneous inference the biographer has deduced from erroneous premises. to the eloquence and artifices of " the celebrated Brinsley

Sheridan," as she is pleased to style him, it will be observed, took place when he was a boy, and innocent of any acquaintance with Mr. Kerr, who was his father s, not his contemporary. During Mr. Kerr's afflicting misfortune, he incessantly raved of the elder Mr. Sheridan, who, some time after his return from France, in the year 1 770, found poor Mr. Kerr apparently reinstated in the possession of his senses, but in very distressed circumstances, in London.

This was the period mentioned in the text, when, partly with a view to serve Mr. Kerr, and partly under the impression that his instructions might be of benefit to his sons,

Mr. Sheridan engaged him to give them lessons in mathematics. Mr. Kerr also assisted Charles Francis, Mr. She- ridan's eldest son, who had not had the same advantages as his brother, of a learned education in the study of the

Latin language. During two years, as abovementioned, this attendance was continued, and on the days of teaching, Mr.

Kerr was always invited to dinner, and to pass the evening.

About the same time Mr. Charles Francis Sheridan recom-

mended him to Mr. Simon Ewart, a young gentleman he

had known in France, and the son of a most respectable

merchant in the Cit}^ Mr. Ewart became his pupil, and the

Z t family 344 MEMOIRS OF

** Such acts of youthful indiscretion and levity are not here alluded to in a spirit of malignity, family treated him with the same hospitahty he experienced

at Mr. Sheridan's house ; and they also procured him pupils. Charles Francis Sheridan and Simon Ewart having more occasion for his assistance than Richard Brinsley, they

took more interest in him, and often passed evenings with

Mr. Kerr, to pursue their studies, paying the whole erpense

of these little parties, in which his other pupil never joined.

This little meeting used to be called, jocosely, the Club ; and

by this it plainly appears that Richard Brinsley Sheridan was

the least intimate with Mr. Kerr of any of his pupils. The

removal of Mr. Sheridan and his family to Bath, occasioned

a cessation of intercourse ; but, in 1775, they were again in

London ; and Mr. Charles Francis Sheridan one day in-

formed his father that he had been called upon by his old

master, Mr. Kerr, to be present at his marriage, either as a

witness or to give away the bride—the author of this com-

munication does not exactly recollect which. The circum-

stance at the time excited some pleasantry, as the bride

(though designated by Miss Kerr as " in the bloom of life ")

was, in reality, tar from young ; and the bridegroom was

contemporary with Mr. C. F. Sheridan's father. Mr. C. F.

Sheridan also learned that Mr. Kerr had obtained a situa-

tion in the College of Physicians, which entitled him to

lodging, coals, and a small salary. In 1783, when Mr. C.

F. Sheridan MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 345 but for the important purpose of elucidating character, and of shewing the baneful and ex-

F. Sheridan held the situation of Secretary at War in

Dublin, he was surprised by a visit from Mr. Kerr^ who told him he came over to recover a large property to which he was heir, and produced papers, which Mr. C. F. Sheridan, who had been called to the bar, agreed to look over. Upon examination, Mr. C. F. Sheridan (whom Miss Kerr has mistaken throughout for his brother R. B. Sheridan) found that Mr. Kerr had no claim whatever to the property he mentioned, and advised his immediate return to England, at the same time giving him the means of doing what he proposed. Mr. Kerr, however, continued in Dublin, persecut- ing him with visits, and frequent demands on his purse, whence it is possible that he was sometimes " denied admittance " (as stated by Miss Kerr) to Charles, not Richard

Brinsley Sheridan, the latter having nothing whatever to do

with the business. Mr. C. F. Sheridan considered Kerr's whole conduct as the result of a deranged mind, and advised Mrs. Kerr, who either accompanied or followed him

to Ireland, to get him away. Want of money was again

pleaded as an excuse for delay : upon which Mr. Sheridan

made another donation, but did not allow it to be given till

they were actually on board ship. That subsequent to these

events, and in this state of mental derangement, the un-

happy man might have persecuted Richard Brinsley Sheri- dan 3i<6 M E M O I U S OF

tensive effects of parental imprudence."—Vol. i.

p. 167.8.

This erroneous opinion of Mr. Sheridan is

expressed more explicitly, p. IC9.

" Unfortunately, in his anxiety to perfect

them in the graces of speech, he forgot the more

substantial requisite of self-controul and a disci- plined mind, in the labour of patient investiga- tion, and the exercise of the duties which man owes to himself as well as to society.

*' Mr. Sheridan was abundantly competent to the employment of delivering lectures on correct

and elegant speaking ; but lie was very ill adapted to train up young men as instructors in general knowledge.'*-

dan with solicitations is not unlikely ; but that he was ever his " friend," or could have deprived him of a fortune, which he never possessed, the above facts sufficiently prove. The sister of Mr. Sheridan, who makes this statement, resided with her brother, at the Castle of Dublin, at the time of

Mr. Kerr's visits. She saw him in the year 1785, at her father's house, restored to his former calm state of mind, and Hving in the same humble and laborious situation as when she had iirst known him. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 347

This passage, it must be confessed, does not

show much "general knowledge" of the char

racter of the elder Mr. Sheridan, who was dis-

tinguished for the extent of his information on

a variety of subjects, and for a taste and a

capacity to enjoy the varied treasures of the

natural and intellectual world. The following

passage is, if possible, still more unfounded.

" Like the moralist in Rasselas, who could

prelect with the most convincing force upon

the necessity and advantage of governing the

passions, his jirivote deportment *would have re- futed his principles, or shewn the inejjicacy of

his rules.'' —Vol. i. p. l69.

Now, if it is inferred that Dr. Johnson

meant his friend Mr Sheridan, by the moralist

in Rasselas, that is an error ; for their ac-

quaintance did not commence till after Rasselas

was written.* If the Biographer merely would

* Though Dr. Johnson could not possibly have had his

friend in view in the Philosopher of Cairo, the description

of his elocution is not unlike that which time has left us of

the elder Mr. Sheridan's. "As 348 MEMOIRS OF insinuate that Mr. Sheridan's private conduct contradicted the principles he was desirous of instilhng into his children, it is an assertion equally unfounded, as he ever preserved the character of a man of the most unsullied morals, in a profession the most peculiarly exposed to temptation.

Besides those studies and employments to which Mr. Sheridan devoted his sons, during the two years that elapsed between Richard

Brinsley's removal from Harrow, and residing at Bath (two years, which the biographer has,

I know not why, chosen to slide into one), it was his custom every day to assemble his little family to morning prayers, and on Sunday

" As he was one day walking in the street, he saw a spa- cious building, which all were, by the open doors, invited to enter. He followed the stream of people, and found it a hall or school of declamation, in which professors read lectures to their auditory. He fixed his eye upon a sage, raised above the rest, who discoursed with great energy on the government of the passions. His look was venerable, his action graceful, his pronunciation clear, and his diction elegant,'' — Rasselas, chap. 18. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 349 evenings he either explained to them the subject of the morning's sermon, or selected for elucidation some portion of scripture calculated to enforce " the duties which man owes to himself as well as to society.**

After this, a selection from the works of some religious or moral author was read aloud. Some- times it was the Ramblers of Dr. Johnson ; a choice which reflects equal honour on Mr. She- ridan's candour and his taste. When, as was his custom on these occasions, Mr. Sheridan himself took the book in turn to read, his daughters, though sometimes anxious and fa- tigued before, owing to the extreme difficulty of completely satisfying an ear so exquisitely correct as their father's, felt instant renovation of spirits and attention ; so gratifying to the ear and the mind was his animated and per- spicuous manner of delivery.

A better picture cannot be imagined of the sacrifice of private resentment to feelings of morality and principle, than that of Sheridan, bestowing the aid of liis elegant and forcible 350 MEMOIRS OF

delivery to set off the pure morality that flowed

from the harmonious periods of Johnson ! —It

surely ought to exonerate him from Dr. Wat-

kins's repeated charges of " spleen," of bearing

" a grudge," &c. &c. " to his ancient friend."

Long after his initiation into the gay and busy

world, Richard Brinsley Sheridan retained in his

vivid imagination a lively recollection of those

calm and virtuous hours spent under his father's

roof. Once after his marriage, upon occasion of

his calling on the elder Mr. Sheridan, on busi-

ness, his father happened to be absent, but his

sister received him in the dining-room where the cloth was laid. *' Ah !" said he, " I could fancy myself back among old times, seated with

Charles and my sisters at this table, and my father looking round upon us, and giving his !" favorite toast—" Healths, hearts and homes On the subject of Mr. Sheridan's two sons

(pages 170 and 171)» it is asserted by Dr^ Watkins,

" The eldest son, who had long enjoyed the confidence of his father, and the benefit of his :

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDANT. 351 instructions, was much employed by him in public recitation.'* * * *

"When the youngest was taken from Har-

row, he also received lessosis in elocution with

the same viewJ*

This is a misstatement ; Charles Francis She-

ridan never recited in public but once, and that

was when he was a boy. His father took him wdth

him when he gave his first course of lectures in

the city soon after his misfortunes in Ireland

Richard never was brought forward in that way.

" Mr. Sheridan,'* continues the biographer,

" had a house in Bath, where he read lectures

to subscribers, and gave private lessons on

reading and declamation to a select number of

pupils, in which he was assisted chiefly by Charles,

and occasionally by his other son.'* —Vol. i. p. I70.

The foregoing part of this paragraph is cor-

rect, but not so the latter. In I77I, Mr. She-

ridan removed with his family to Batli, where

he gave a course of lectures, but he had no

academy. The next circumstance to be noticed

in the *' Memoirs of R. C. Sheridan" is the ap- 350, MEMOIRS OF plication to his father of the terms " an itinerant lecturer and actor," pages 193 and 194.

Nothing can give a more unfounded idea of

his character. It is strange to apply the dero- gatory term "itinerant'* to the circumstance of Mr. Sheridan's delivering his lectures at the proper seats of learning— at Oxford, where his " Art of Reading" was much studied and esteemed, and where he was complimented with a degree ; at Cambridge, where he received the same honour ; and in Edinburgh, where, as has been already related, he was presented with the Freedom of the City.

Considering Mr. Sheridan in the light of a theatrical performer, the term is equally inapplicable. It has been, and still continues the custom, for the most distinguished dramatic performers to exhibit their talents in country

towns : but Garrick never did so, neither did his not unworthy rival, Sheridan. London and

Dublin were the only places that witnessed the performances of Mr. Sheridan. The sole ex- ceptions that occurred from this rule were such MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 353

as not to militate in the smallest degree against

the respectability of his character.

The first was when he visited Cork, in 177«5«

At this time he was treated with the most dis-

tinguished attention by the most leading persons

in the county, who were his valued and inti-

mate friends : the late St. John Jeiferies, Esq.,

of Blarney Castle, and Governor of Cork, and

Lord Muskerry, who was High Sheriff of the county. A number of gentlemen of Cork, who had been educated at Trinity College, and had formed themselves into an association, to meet and dine once a week together, immediately upon learning that Mr. Sheridan (who was also of Trinity) was in the neighbourhood, requested him to become a member of their club. Those who reflect upon the little prejudices entertained by the aristocracy of the provinces far more than of the capital, against common theatrical performers, will at once perceive, by this distinguished compliment, that Mr. Sheridan was held in quite a different light.*

* The last time the elder Mr. Sheridan visited Ireland

--2 A (^787) 354 MEMOIRS OF

In a delightful tour to the Lakes of Killarney, which Mr. Sheridan, from his high relish and taste for the beauties of naluial scenery, enjoyed with peculiar satisfaction, he (with his two daughters) was received with every toLen of respect and attention, and with the same dis-

tinguished kindness as at Co? k ; a town, whose inhabitants are remarkable for urbanity to stran- gers, and for the intellectual cultivation they

successfully mingle with the pursuits of business.

Returning from his tour to Killarney, Mr. She-

ridan was for some time the guest of the Rev.

(1787), he was elected almost unanimously a member of the

Kildare Street Club ; a society of the highest description in

Dublin, of which his son Charles Francis Sheridan, then

Secretary at War, was one of the earliest members. Mr.

Sterling, a particular friend of old Mr. Sheridan's, announced

to him, that he had been ejected a member " without a single

dissentient voice." Another person present happened un-

luckily to observe, that there was one black bean. " Pooh!"

!" resumed the worthy Sterling, " That slipped in by accident

These two anecdotes will prove that Mr. Sheridan's pursuits

never prevented him from being, what Dr. Johnson termed,

(coining a word, as he had an undoubted right to do,) " a

very clubable man." ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 355

Dr. James Stopford and Dr. Joseph Stopford, of Charleville, both of the family of the Earl of

Courtown; a family no less estimable for purity of conduct than for nobility of blood. From thence he proceeded cO Mr. Munsel, of Tervoe and, during the course of this last visit, was occasionally Ihe guest of Sir Harry Harstonge, the Dean of Limerick, and the principal gentry in the neighbourhood.

His pKiying at Limerick a: all, originated in an anecdote which, although it may excite a smile at Mr. Sheridan's easy good-nature, will find a ready apology in every mind that resem- bles his. When Heaphy, the manager of the

Co-'k Theatre, who had also the direction of that at Limerick, first engaged Mr. Sheridan to play a certain number of nights at Cork, he

made no mention of playing at Limerick ; well

knowing that it was against Mr. Sheridan's

general rule to perform in country theatres.

When, however, they met at Cork, the country

Manager, for the first time, expressed his expec- 2 A 2 —

356 MEMOIRS OF tation* that Mr. Sheridan would also perform during the assize week at Limerick. He pro- tested, with true Irish pathos, if it were known at Limerick that he had Sheridan at Cork, and not at their city, " he would be ruined and undone entirely; let alone having the house pulled about his ears :'* and this Mr. Sheridan knew, from bitter experience, might be no idle flourish of rhetoric. He certainly might have refused Heaphy's additional demand, as there was some want of ingenuousness in the conduct of the Irish manager ; but Iiis was not a mind to weigh so minutely the errors of a generally worthy man. He yielded to poor Heaphy's eloquence, and consented to perform a few nights also at Limerick, where his exertions were received with that enthusiasm by which, in his native country, they were always rewarded.

Mr. Sheridan's second visit to Cork was in

* For the full force of the comprehensive Irish " I expect," see Miss Edgeworth's truli/ " Popular " Tales. —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 357 the summer of I77G. He left Dublin with his family, and travelled down to Cork in the company of St. John JefTeries, Esq., whose guest he

was, as were also his daughters ; and while at

Blarney Castle, he was entertained in turn by other families of distinction. These two are the only times that Mr. Sheridan ever played in the country. He never performed any where

as an articled actor : and when the candid reader recapitulates the circumstances here related—when he considers the estimation in which Mr. Sheridan was held, and the circle in which he moved—a circle composed of the enlightened, the reverend, and the honourable of all that was distinguished for rank, or respectable in character — when he compares this with the treatment of common country performers, he will see whether Mr. Sheridan deserves to be classed by Dr. Watkins with tJiose, or to rank as a man of talents, and a gentleman.

A curious instance of the value which was set upon Mr. Sheridan's instructions in theatrical 2 a3 358 MEMOIRS OF

declamation, occurred the following winter, the

last that he ever played in Ireland.

A young and very lovely actress, whose

beauty and virtue afterwards raised her to a

high marriage, took it into her head to pass for

a pupil of Mr. Sheridan's, without there being

any grounds for such an assertion. She thought

that it would benefit her in her theatrical cha-

racter ; and accordingly, when leheaisal was

over, or when visitors were present, she used to

take out her watch, gravely apologize for hur-

rying away, but say, " This was the hour that

she was to receive the instructions of Mr. Sheri-

dan, and she would not on any account disap-

point him." By this ingenious contiivance,

she actually convinced several persons that she

had the benefit of regular lessons from him in

her art j although there was no further founda-

tion for the supposition, than that Mr. Sheridan

had once, at rehearsal, suggested an alteration

in her manner of repeating one or two speeches.

The biographer of R. B. Sheridan seems, in MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 359 several places, deeply impressed with the notion

that Mr. Sheridan never consulted the inclina-

tions or genius of his children ; bat was desirous

at all events, that they should devote themselves

to public education.

" He (Mr. Sheridan) has been heard fre-

quently to say, * that he would rather see his

two sons at the head of respectable academies,

as a situation the most beneficial to mankind,

than one of them Prime Minister of Britain, " and the other at the head of affairs in Ireland.' —Memoirs of the Right Hon. R. B. Sheridan,

vol. i. p. 168.

Now the only authority for this saying of Mr.

Sheridan's, is to be found in " Whyte's Miscel-

lanies :" where we have also seen it, and where

in a note it is added—that it was " very re-

markable^^ this declaration was made in the year

1782, when Richard Brinsley Sheridan enjoyed

the post of Under Secretary of State in England,

and Charles, that of Secretary at War in the

Castle of Dublin.

Very remarkable would these additional circum- 2 A 4 360 MEMOIRS OF

stances have rendered Mr. Sheridan's opinion,

if it had been true that he had in reaUty thus

expressed himself. But unfortunately there is

not the slightest shadow of foundation for the

story.

In the year 1782, Mr. Sheridan was on no

terms witli the elder Mr. Whyte, who is men-

tioned in the " Miscellanies " as the person to

whom he made this observation ; so it is hardly

to be supposed he would choose him as the

confidante of his views and wishes with regard to his children. But the real fact is, that so far from feeling the stupid indifference to their advancement ascribed to him by the biographer,

Mr. Sheridan received from their success in life the highest gratification of which a paternal heart is susceptible. On the occasion of his favourite son, Charles, being made Secretary at War in Ireland, he gave a dinner at the

London Tavern, to which he invited all the friends who shared in the pleasure he experienced from this fulfilment of one of his fondest

wishes ; and the circumstances of their joyous MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 36l meeting have been related to the author by a surviving friend who was present.

We shall only notice one or two more inaccu- racies in the " Memoirs,** before we advert with regret to the last and most glaring mis-statement, relative to the elder Mr. Sheridan*s death.

In page 152, it is asserted that

" Some of the booksellers having undertaken a new edition of the Works of Swift, in nineteen volumes, engaged Mr. Sheridan to correct the press, and write a new Life of the Author."

The idea of a new edition, and Life of Swift, originated with Mr. Sheridan himself. He never corrected the press. Both as the successful disciple of Swift, and from the habits of intimacy in which his father the Doctor had lived with him, Mr. Sheridan was peculiarly qualified to be the editor of the works of that classical genius, and to rescue his memory from the various aspersions of other biographers.

I shall now briefly mention the occupations of the few last years of his life. In 1785, Mr.

Sheridan made a tour of pleasure, by which his 862 MEMOIRS OF

health was much benefited, with Agmondesham

Vesey and his lady, who is well known in the fashionable and ''terary world, and whose name has become familiar to the public by means of the correspondence of Miss Carter, Miss Talbot, and other distinguished literary characters.

The tour finished at Tunbridge, where Mr.

Sheridan was, daring his stay there, successively the guest of Mr. ard Mrs. Vesey, and Lord and Lady Cvemorne. The ensuing winter in London, the venerable Mrs. Vesey renewed her civilities to Mr. Sheridan, and paid his youngest daughter, Elizabeth, now Mrs. H. Leianu, who had then come from Ireland to reside with him, the distinguished attention of a visit, though she never in general left her own house. At her evening parties (or soirees^ as they would now be called), to which Mr. and Miss Sheridan had a general invitation, the guestS were sure to meet, on the most pleasant and easy footing, all the names of the time most distinguished for rank and literature.

At Agmondesham Vesey's one evening, Mr. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 36S

Sheridan was a witness to one of those unac- countable bursts of spleen in Dr, Johnson, which sometimes reduced that highly-gifted man to the common level of humanity. It was tlie Doctor's first appearance among tliem after a pretty long indisposition. Mrs. H , a i elation and friend of Mrs. Vesey's, and a woman of the most kind and benevolent manners, advanced, delighted to see him, and with a countenance expi essive of cordial satisfaction welcomed him with, " How do you do. Dr. Johnson? I am extremely glad to see you here again." Whe- ther Johnson thought this an officious fa- miliarity, or did not like his sickness to be noticed, Mrs. H had the mortification to receive from the Doctor this rough and un- " expected reply : No, Ma*am ! you are not glad

to see me ; nor I am not glad to see you j nor !" I don't care that for you

In another visit to Tunbridge, in I786, Mr.

Sheridan was gratified by a flattering proof of the efficacy of his system.

The Rev. Mr. Foster, who served the chapel 364 MEMOIRS OF

there, sought his acquaintance, solely on the

ground of his literary obligations to him ; as he

declared that any merit he might possess in the

performance of the divine service, he owed to

a sedulous attention to the precepts promul-

gated in Mr. Sheridan's works.

About this time, Mr. Sheridan entertained

some idea of making himself more extensively

useful in this way, by preparing young clergy-

men, between the interval of College and ordi-

nation, for the proper and forcible delivery of

the service of the Church of England. He

meant wholly to have confined himself to giving

them instructions in the art of reading, and a

graceful delivery, in the English language.

Having now retired from public life ten years,

he was much encouraged to devote his thoughts

to private tuition, by the numerous applications

he received this year from persons of the first

distinction in the state and army, who were

anxious to place their sons under his care. But

a more brilliant prospect, in Mr. Sheridan's opinion, at this time opened to him. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 365

Understanding from his son Charles, then

Secretary at War in Ireland, that Mr. Orde,

Secretary to His Grace the Duke of Rutland, was desirous of improving the system of education in that kingdom, he visited Ireland at the earnest request of his eldest son, in the year

1787, to try to form his long-planned National

Establishment, under the auspices of a government so friendly to it. For this purpose, Mr.

Sheridan had several interviews with Mr. Orde, to make the necessary arrangements.

The funds for carrying this truly national and patriotic scheme into execution were to have arisen from the putting down such free schools as were given by favour, and in which, by the gradual abuses which had gained ground in the lapse of time, no duty was done. These funds were to be appropriated to defraying the expences of the projected national institution.

The scite of it was to be at New Geneva, near

Waterford ; for such was the name that had been given to some buildings erected there in the year 1783, in the expectation that some of the 366 MEMOIRS OF expatriated Genevese would have settled in

Ireland. Mi. Sheridan was now tru'y happy at what appeared so near a prospect of the great object of his life being accomplished. The unforeseen and deeply lamented death of the

Duke of Rutland, and the consequent removal of Mr. Orde, put a final end to these hopes, at the moment there was the most rational pios- pect of their being realized.

This unexpected overthrow, combined with other vexations, affecced Mr. Sheridan's health so much, that a trial of the air of Lisbon was recommended to him. Although very little able to undertake the journey, the idea of a removal to a totally different scene exhilarated his spirits, and the anticipation of amusement to be derived from a variety of new objects, imparted to his mind a momentary energy, which gave a fallacious promise of prolonged existence.

In the summer of I788, Mr. jSheridan and his youngest daughter left Dublin. The party with whom they passed over to England was MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 367

particularly pleasant ; consisting of the celebrated Mrs. Crewe and her amiable sister-in-law,

Mrs. Lane ; and an accidental meeting with another highly distinguished character rendered this httle voyage still more agreeable to them.

On stepping into the boat which was to convey him to the vessel, Mr. Sheridan was courteously accosted by a gentleman among the pas- sengers, who, being more commodiously situated, and observing in Mr. Sheridan the indications of age and suffering, politely proposed an exchange of seats.

He immediately entered into conversation with the obliging stranger, and from the first few observations he uttered, perceived he possessed a mind that ranked above the common order. To Mr. Sheridan, who had the highest relish and value for the talents of conversation, and an uncommon power of distinguishing and eliciting them in others, this was a delightful discovery: and the two gentlemen found so many topics in common, and discussed them in a manner so agreeable, that insensibly they col- 368 MEMOIRS OF lected a little auditory around them, attracted by the intellectual pleasure which the coUision of two accomplished minds so unexpectedly afforded them. This highly-gifted man, of whom it might be said, as Johnson obseiTed of

Burke, that a person could not stand under a gateway for shelter from a shower in his company, without hearing him utter something worth recording, was John Philpot Curran.*

On shipboard the civilities of Mr. Curran

continued ; and every attention in his power was paid by him to Mr. Sheridan and his daughter. These civilities did not cease till they landed at Park Gate, where Mr. Curran's humanity and consideration evinced itself in a friendly offer to relieve Mr. Sheridan from the trouble attending on the examination of his baggage at the Custom-House, by transacting that business at the same time with his own.

The proposal was gratefully accepted, and this was the last that Mr. Sheridan and his daughter saw of their pleasant comimgnon de

* Afterwards Master of the Rolls in Ireland. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 869 voyage, but the transient glow of spirits produced by these circumstances subsided by the time Mr. Sheridan had arrived at Chester. His kind friends expressed their anxiety that he

should remain in that neighbourhood till he had

recovered from the fatigues of his journey. Mrs.

Lane obligingly offered him her house that he

might remove from the disturbance of an inn :

Mrs. Crewe also joined in requesting him to

pass some days at Crewe Hall ; but his anxiety

to reach the place of his destination urged

him to decline all these offers. Though in

a state of health so precarious, he proceeded

immediately on his journey, and arrived in

London, accompanied onli/ by his youngest

daughter,* and not " accompanied by his friend

Mr. Whyte,'* as erroneously stated in the

Memoirs of the Right Hon. R. B. Sheridan,

p. 154.

The only foundation for that assertion is,

that Mr. Whyte was travelling in England

about the same time, with his daughter. A

* Mrs. H. Lefanu.

2 B —

370 MEMOIRS OF coolness of many years had prevailed between

Mr. Sheridan and Mr. Whyte. During his last visit to Ireland, Mr. Sheridan's youngest daughter had prevailed on him to be so far reconciled to Mr. Whyte, that a slight intercourse of mere civility passed between them. Some days after their arrival in London, Mr. Whyte came to that place with his daughter, who had lived in

habits of intimacy with Miss Sheridan ; at her intercession, Mr. Sheridan consented to see

Mr. AVhyte, and it was indeed their " last" in- ternew.*

* In the " Memoirs of the Right Hon. R. B. Sheridan," p. 138, in the account of the elder Mr. Sheridan's settlement with his creditors after his return from France, not being in the manner approved of by Mr. Whyte, the expression occurs,

" Considering the particular obligations of Mr. Sheridan to his friend.''

Now the loan of a hundred pounds, punctually repaid, which Mr. Sheridan applied for soon after the loss of his wife, was the only obligation ever incurred. That he should have asked this small favour from the man who owed every thing to him, was very natural, the more so, as at the time he thought well of him. Whatever coolness took place at

that MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 371

After stating that Mr. Sheridan breathed his last the 14th of August, at his lodgings in

Margate, Dr. Watkins adds :

*' His remains were interred on the following week, without being attended by any of his nearest relatives." — P. 155.

To this his family beg leave to oppose the following true statement of the facts.

During the short stay of Mr. Sheridan and his daughter in town, Mr. R. B. Sheridan was also in London, detained by business, and visited his father and sister daily. He was very desirous they sliould go down to Deepden, a house in Surrey, lent to him by his Grace the

late Duke of Norfolk ; but the elder Mr. She- ridan was anxious to go on to Margate, at which place he proposed to rest previous to his in-

that time was got over, as it was after that period Mr. She- ridan made over his right of publishing his " Art of Read- ing," in Ireland, to Mr. Whyte, without expecting any return.

The second coolness arose on Mr. Sheridan's part from a stronger cause, and was never removed beyond the slight reconciliation mentioned in the text.

2 B <2 372 MEMOIRS OF tended voyage. After his arrival at Margate his health declined rapidly, and, being shortly

followed thither by his kinsman, the late Dr.

Morris, that affectionate friend and relation

immediately perceived all hope was over, and

wrote in consequence to Richard Brinsley

Sheridan. Mr. Sheridan, upon receiving this

summons, immediately set off for Margate, and

by travelling all night, arrived in time for his

father to be sensible of his attentions.

He never left him till he breathed his last,

which was nearly two days after the aiTival of

Mr. Sheridan. Having conducted his sister,*

who had never quitted her father, to Deepden,

the Duke of Norfolk's seat, where Mrs. Sheri-

dan was then residing, Mr. Sheridan, without

resting a single night, returned to Margate,

accompanied by his brother-in-law, Richard

Tickell, Esq. and Joseph Richardson, Esq., to

make the necessary arrangements respecting

the funeral.

It had been Mr. Sheridan's intention to have

* Mrs. H. Lefanu. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 373 his father's remains conveyed to be buried near those of Dr. Robert Sumner, of Harrow, his dearest and most esteemed friend ; but, on opening the will, he found that the late Mr.

Sheridan had left the most positive injunctions that in whatever place he died, he should be buried there, and in the most private manner possible. According to these directions, Mr.

Sheridan, as chief mourner, attended the corpse of his father to the village of St. Peter, v/here his remains were deposited, in a vault in the centre aisle of St. Peter's church. The funeral was also attended by the only other relations he had then in England, the late Dr. Morris and his son,* Richard Tickell, Joseph Richard- son, and the faithful attached servant who had brought down the will, and who, with the wor-

thy Dr. Morris and his son, had remained at

Margate during Mr. Sheridan's short absence at Deepden in Surrey. Every mark of respect consistent with the directions in the will, was

shown by Mr. Sheridan on the occasion ; and

* Charles Morris, Esc}., now of Southampton.

'2b 3 .S74 M E M O I R S OF if others have been attended with more osten- tation to the grave, few have been with greater sincerity lamented.

To those who are only acquainted with the character of the elder Mr. Sheridan through the distorted medium of partial and incorrect biographers, — those who imagine him a splenetic projector, always justly disappointed in his schemes, and then railing loudly against the inflictors of his disappointments, —to such he must appear quite a new character, in the more faithful portrait drawn of him by the memory of his only surviving daughter.

In fact, though persecuted through life by- fortune, and severely tried by adversity, few among his contemporaries were more esteemed

than Mr. Sheridan ; and I may add, that in consequence of an equally happy disposition of mind and body, few, during the intervals of affliction, enjoyed with a greater relish the pleasures that his life afforded. Unlike his great compeer Johnson, the imperfection of whose senses obliged him, like the blind, to seek MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. S^T) for pleasure almost exclusively in conversation, Mr. Sheridan, though well qualified to shine there, possessed a knowledge, and ex- cised a fine taste in all the arts, as well as a keen relish fi^r the beauties of nature.

Johnson thouglit Fleet Street finer than Green- wich Park, and the elms near Bolt Court the ne plus ultra of rural elegance. Sheridan had a love for rural " sights and sounds," and a judgment in natural scenery, perhaps unparalleled in one whose professional habits obliged him to mingle so much in active life. Possessing all his senses in the keenest perfection, his eagle eye discerned every object of the landscape at the remotest distance ; and his taste for the beauties of painting was in proportion to his admiration of nature's models. Without any of the cant of criticism, Mr. Sheridan possessed every requisite for a judge in the art ; nor was the pleasure with wliich he contemplated a fine prospect greater than that with which he stood in admiring contemplation ofanyof the master- pieces of human genius. Johnson was utterly

2 I) 4 376 M E 31 O I II S OF insensible to the powers of music. Once, and but once, his Biographer records, he was somewhat affected by musical sounds ; they struck him as solemn and affecting, but then he confessed it was at a funeral. Sheridan possessed

both judgment and taste in music ; indeed, such might be supposed from the exquisite delicacy of his ear, and his unrivalled skill in declamation. To hear him repeat Dryden's Ode for

St. Cecilia's Day, has been designated by one of the greatest judges now living as a master-piece of recitation. He gave to that divine ode, justly the pride of English lyric numbers, all that force, variety and fire, with which the mind of the venerable Dryden must have glowed, when he pronounced (not with the self-sufficiency of vanity, but with the dignified confidence of merit,) " that it was the best ode which had ever yet been written, or which ever would be composed."*

* " Mr. Malone has preserved a tradition, tliat the father of Lord Chief Justice Marlay, then a Templar, and frequenter of Wills' coffee-house, took an opportunity to pay his court

to —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 377

In his youth Mr. Sheridan had been attached to conviviality and the sports of the field ; but these tastes diminished from the time he married, and the loss of the faithful partner who had been indeed to him '* a second selfj" cast a gloom at intervals over the latter part of his life. Many more particulars relating to Mrs. Sheridan might have been collected, but that the mention of her name caused witli it recollections so painful to her husband, that liis cliildren, from a sense of duty, abstained from recalling, by imprudent questions, the memory of his irreparable loss.

In his notions of female education Mr. Sheri- dan was extremely liberal. In France he had

to Dryden on the publication of ' Alexander's Feast ;' and happening to sit next him, congratulated him on having produced the finest and noblest ode that had ever been written in any language. ' You are right, young gentleman (replied Dryden), a nobler ode never tvas produced, nor ever ivilL' This singularly strong expression cannot be placed to

the score of vanity ; it was an inward consciousness of merit, which burst forth probably almost involuntarily, and I fear must be admitted as prophetic." Scotfs Life of Dryden, pp. 411,412. ;

378 M E ;m o I u s of

bej^un to teach his eldest daughter Latin, in the

class with her brothers ; had not various circumstances occurred to present obstacles to his designs, he would have continued the same instructions to both his daughters. His perfect judgment in all the requisites of his profession, even envy itself has never been able to deny that this judgment was equalled by his candour, the following little history will testify.

In 177'5, the last year of Garrick's management of Drury Lane, Mr. Sheridan was present at Mrs. Cowley's comedy of " The Runaway," in which a sentimental part was sustained by a young lady, whose talents were highly extolled by those who had the best opportunities ofjudg- ing of her. Notwithstanding this, the comedy was so insipid, and the part she performed so little adapted to the display of superior powers, that it was difficult to discover merit shrouded under so unfa\'Ourable a disguise, and the highly- praised young actress made very little impression on him. It was still confidently asserted, that she needed only to be brought forward in parts MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. o'/9 equal to her genius, to shine forth a theatrical

star of the first magnitude ; and her friends lamented the selfish policy of Garrick, who avoided bringing her forward, from a fear that she would divide the public attention with him.

As his jealousy even of female performers was well known, the truth of this assertion was never doubted ; and one anecdote in particular was circulated, that on occasion of a dispute with

Miss Younge, who had begun, as well as other actresses, to shew a refractory temper, he had said, " I tell you, you had better not give your- selves airs, for there is a woman i7i the house, who, if I chose to bring her forward, would eclipse you all in youth, beauty and talent."

These mysterious expressions were considered by Yates, Younge, and Abington, the three reigning female favourites, as merely an empty boast ; but much mirth was excited by the idea of Garrick's " Greenroom Goddess," for such was the name she obtained in consequence of the praises he had bestowed on her. Her at-

traction, however, was not sufficient to enable 380 M E M O I R S OF

her to obtain a renewed engagement at the end

of the season. A few years after, Richard

Brinsley Sheridan, Esq. had succeeded to the

direction of the theatre, the elder Mr. Sheri-

dan, while at Bath for his health, was strongly

solicited to go to the play, to witness the per-

formance of a young actress, who was said to distance all competition in tragedy. Though in general he had a dislike to provincial exhibitions, Mr. Sheridan was induced, by the warm commendations bestowed upon this young performer, to depart from his usual practice, and go to the theatre to see her. He found to his astonishment, that it was the lady who had made so little impression on him some years before in the *' Runaway ;" but who, as Garrick had secretly declared, was possessed of tragic powers sufficient to delight and electrify an audience. There prevailed at that time, and long afterwards, a very disagreeable clause in the articles of the Bath company, by which they were obliged to perform also at Bristol ; and in consequence, by some mistake in their frequent MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 381 and hurried journeys, the stage clothes of this admired actress were not arrived on the night

Mr. Sheridan saw her, and she was obliged to perform in one of the dresses she usually wore in private life. But no disadvantage of dress could conceal her transcendant merit from an eye so

penetrating as that of Mr. Sheridan ; and after the play was over he went behind the scenes, to get introduced to her, in order to compliment her in the highest terms upon her performance.

Such a distinction, from a judge of his acknowledged merit, could not fail of being highly flattering. Mr. Sheridan said, " I am surprised, madam, that with such talents you should confine yourself to the country; talents that would be sure of commanding, in London, fame and success."

The actress modestly replied, that she had already tried London, but without the success

which had been anticipated ; and that she was advised by her friends to be content with the fame and profit she obtained at Bath, particu- 382 MEMOIRS OF larly as her voice was deemed unequal to the extent of a London theatre.

Mr. Sheridan, who judged very differently of this actress's powers from what her modesty induced her to do herself, spoke, immediately on his return to London, to Mr. King, the acting manager of Drury Lane, strenuously recommending to him, if he had any regard to the interests of the theatre, to engage a performer of abilities so distinguished.

His zeal for the success of his protegee did not stop here, but, upon her being engaged, he directed her, with a truly kind solicitude, in the choice of a part for her first appearance. With the usual preference of young and handsome actresses for a character of pomp and show, she inclined to that of Euphrasia, in the " Grecian

Daughter ;" but the juster taste of Mr. Sheridan

determined her in favour of the far more natural and affecting character of " Isabella ;" and the judgment with which the selection was made was

amply confirmed by the bursts of rapturous ad- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 383 miration which hailed, after the long obscurity to which the jealousy of contemporary talent had condemned her exertions, the full blaze of trans-

cendant merit in Mrs. Siddons ! The kindness of Mr. Sheridan, which did not stop here, but shewed itself in every possible way in her behalf,

it was gratefully acknowledged by the object of j who, when at the height of her professional prosperity, was wont to term him " The father of my fortune and my fame !'* The kindness and humanity of Mr. Sheridan's disposition were great ; and in his professional career he was often tempted to exert those qualities in a degree that, by the mere worldling, might be deemed imprudent. On some one's remonstrating with him, while he had the ma nagement of the Dublin Theatre, upon keeping a superannuated actor on the establishment, to whom he paid a weekly salary, when totally precluded from further exertion, Mr. Sheridan,

with benevolent simplicity, replied, " The poor

man must live 1"* " Yes," objected his friend,

* This answer of Mr. Sheridan irresistibly brings to mind

the 384 MEMOIRS OF

" but why should it be at your expense ?'* Let those who feel inclmed to term such conduct folly, examine their own hearts, and dread to discover selfishness lurking under the form of prudence there.

His power of exciting attachment among his inferiors and dependents was very great.

The fidelity and devotion of the faithful servant who attended his remains to the grave at Margate, was, through life, and after death, something extraordinary. William

Thompson (that was the name of the worthy man) had been in his service twelve years ; and after Mr. Sheridan's death, he visited annually the scene where his beloved master's remains were deposited. One of Mr. Sheridan's surviving daughters, who was ignorant of the cause of his absence, inquired it of his wife who re-

the opposite sentiment expressed by a great French states- man, on refusing a small petition, " Mais enfin, Monseigneur" observed the starving applicant ; " il Jaut que je vive."

— " Mais, Monsieur ;"' replied His Eminence, " Jen en vois pas la necessiie r MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. .385

plied, " Indeed, Ma'am, he goes there every !" year to weep over his old master's grave

Mr. Sheridan's pursuits through life were un-

dertaken with a desire of benefiting mankind,

and particularly the then rising generation.

When first Mrs. Barbauld's excellent lessons for

children came out, his daughter brought them

to him as being evidently suggested by an idea

thrown out in his " Art of Reading." It was

the following passage in which he points out

the best manner of instructing children in a

clear and natural manner of reading, and of

obviating the danger of their falling into either

of the extremes of monotone or improper — emphasis :

*' The way to prevent this is, to put no book into their hands, which is not suited to their

slender capacities ; and to take care that they never read any thing, the meaning of which they do not fully comprehend. The best way indeed, of furnishing them with lessons for a long time, ivould he to take down their commo?i prattle, and

make them read it, just as they speak it ; only

2 c —

386 MEMOIRS OF correcting any bad habits they may have acquired in their utterance.'* Jrt of Reading,

Part I.

When Mr. Sheridan saw the Art of Reading, which had before been a torment to children, made dehghtful by these admirable " Lessons," he acknowledged the adoption of his scheme, and was much pleased with the execution of it.

Every thing that bore a reference to education, whether French or English, had an interest for him. When Madame Genlis*s works came out, he read them with avidity, particularly her

" Adele et Theodore.''* Still reverting to the feeling that was uppermost in his mind, the history of Lagaraye was what struck him most in that work ; and the benevolent old man regretted to his daughter that he was not equally favoured by fortune, solely on the ground that it prevented him from being so extensively useful.

He had, however, the satisfaction daily to receive increasing testimonies, both from his countrymen and distinguished and grateful MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 387 foreigners, of the utility of his exertions, and the lights which he had thrown on the English language.

When the Duke de Bouillon visited England, he sought the acquaintance of Mr. Sheridan.

The illustrious foreigner spoke English with perfect facility, and an excellent accent, which he attributed solely to the study of Mr. Sheri- dan's works. By the French writers of his day, he was termed " Homme ctlehre dans la Re- puhlique des Lettres.** In Italy, his mode of writing words as pronounced, has been followed in the formation of a Dictionary of the Italian language. With what justice then can the elder Mr. Sheridan's claims be styled " empiri- cal pretensions ?"* with what justice can he be termed a man " of no authority in the world of letters?"! a man whose mode of instruction in oratory would, if followed, " clear the room."t

The best refutation of this last aspersion is,

* Memoirs of the Rt. Hon. R. B. Sheridan,

f Memoirs of the Rt. Hon. R. B. Sheridan.

X Dr. Johnson was the original author of this last sarcasm. 2 C ^ 388 MEMOIRS OF to name tlie orator who was wholly formed on

Mr. Sheridan's principles—his son, the late Right Honourable R. B. Sheridan. No one can feel for the mental powers of Dr. Johnson greater respect, greater admiration, than the

writer of this defence ; for his glowing eloquence, his pure morality, his profound insight into human nature, and his critical judgment in literature —but his fame is too great to be increased by the ruin of a rival. Let each have his proper degree of praise, and let their claims be adjudged by the voice of impartiality.

Equally labourers in the cause of utility and virtue, the written language was Johnson's principal study, the spoken language the study of

Sheridan. Johnson chiefly aimed at instructing men— Sheridan, at forming the habits of youth.

Grant that Sheridan was enthusiastic in his pursuit of this favourite object, and in his ideas of the benefits that were to accrue from it — is not enthusiasm the soul of every human pursuit, without which it would be impossible to toil against disgust, and difficulty, and danger ? MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 389

" There is an enthusiasm of the head, and that

is genius ; there is an enthusiasm of the heart,

and that is virtue. There is also an enthusiasm

of the temper."*

Of the two first species, the elder Mr. Sheri-

dan had a considerable share ; nor was he witli-

out a portion of tlie latter. And it was rewarded,

although not exactly in the way to which his

sanguine wishes pointed. His ideas on educa-

tion have gradually spread, and have been

adopted in this country by all those who have

either written for youth, or introduced new improvements in education. His plans, for which the times were unripe, have influenced every amelioration that has been since introduced in the early and difficult approach to learning.

His simple, yet nervous eloquence, like a fer- tilizing stream, has enriched the minds of those who tasted it, with pure draughts of knowledge and literature, and with views the most liberal and praiseworthy : and (to quote a phrase applied on a former occasion), in all the modern works in which learning has been cleared of its

* Edge worth. —

390 MEMOIRS OF

thorns and difficulties, in which language has

been placed in its clearest and most beautiful

light, and the parental task of education sim-

plified, the praise must be adjudged, in the first

instance, to him in whom such ideas all origi-

nated ; and their authors must gratefully ac-

knowledge that ** Sheridan rang the bell."*

* " La multiplicite des satires,'^ says Madame Genlis, " a produit le besoin des panegyriques."

No one can feel more than the author of this note the ap-

parent aukvvardness of eulogizing near relatives ; but when

an unjust and unfair attack has been made on the character

of an individual, it is but fair to adduce the testimonials that

can be produced on the other side in his favour. Mr. Thomas

Sheridan has been represented as an enemy to universities,

yet he received academical degrees from both of them. As

despising scholarship, yet his classical attainments vi^ere re-

spected by such men as Dr. Markham, Dr. Parr, and Dr

Sumner of Harrow. The veneration of Mr. Thomas Sheridan

for " The great Ancients," was so high, as to be the subject

in his family of good-humoured raillery. His desire was to

give his son Richard the best possible classical education,

and he even wished to extend the knowledge of the Latin

language to his daughters. The whole foundation on which

the report of his contempt of University learning i-ests, is,

he asserted, both in his works and conversation, that in ac-

quiring —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 391 quiring the dead languages, the Hving and native tongue should not be wholly neglected. How did the Greeks and

Romans themselves arrive to such a height of fame in poetry and eloquence ? was it by devoting their whole time to foreign tongues ? to the cultivation of the Hebrew, the Egyptian, and

the Chaldee ? No ; it was by incessantly studying and polishing their oiim. " Imitate the Antients," was Mr. Sheridan's principle, while he was supposed to have said '* Neglect them."

His other principle was an assertion (never disproved), that the English language contains in itself all the sources of harmony in poetic numbers, though by means different from those possessed by the Latin.* He said that it was unnecessary young people, not intended for the learned professions, should devote so much time to the learned lan-

guages ; an idea that has been since expanded by Mr. Edge- worth. He said, that a mode of education suited to the

particular destinations of youth, would be desirable ; and since that time there have arisen separate modes—for military, commercial, and even agricultural education. If Mr. Sheri- dan could have foreseen the innumerable improvements introduced in modern times, he would have acknowledged his most sanguine wishes gratified: and if he had himself lived in these days, he would have probably seen no necessity for writing upon the subject of British Education.

* That such is the case in all modern languages except the French, is an

opiniun confirmed by M. Sismondi. Liicralurc of the South, vol. i. p. 109. — ——

39'^ ^1 E -"^1 <^ i i^ s O F

CHAlTE'u XI!.

Anectiotes of the Right Honourable Richard Brinsley She- ridan and his family Contradiction of a statement in Dr. Watkins's Memoirs.—Lady Margaret Fordyce the real heroine of " The Picture Varnished."—Miss Linley becomes Mrs. Elizabeth Sheridan. — The biographer of R. B. Sheridan misinformed respecting her. - The Royal Concert.—The Duenna.— Anecdote of Barry the Actor. —Examination into the mysterious reports circulated relative to the real author of the School for Scandal. History of the School for Scandal.—Morality of the piece.— Contradiction of several mis-statements respecting the Linley Family.— Affecting death of Miss Maria Lin- ley.—Contradiction of the statement relating to Mrs. Elizabeth Sheridan's death.— Interesting particulars of the

late R. B. Sheridan Mr. Charles Francis Sheridan Conclusion.

It now only remains to examine some passages relatino' to the late Ricrht Hon. Richard

Brinsley Sheridan himself.

The first is a literary mistake. It is observed in the "Memoirs," p. 182, 183.

" When the breathings of affection are ex- :

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 393

pressed in luirmonious numbers, and clothed

with the richness of metaphor, they are certain

of giving pleasure to the female object of ado-

ration. Even the extravagance of hyperbolical

adulation, and the absurdity of allegorical com-

parison, will, in such cases, be received as pure

incense, of which these lines descriptive of the

personal charms of Miss Linley afford a strik-

ing evidence

" Mark'd you her eye, &c."

Now it so happens that the lines by 11. B. She-

ridan, beginning, " Mark'd you her eye,'* were

written in praise, not of Miss Linley, but of

Lady Margaret Fordyce, sister of Lady Anne

Lindsay, the charming author of " Auld Robin

Gray," and at that time the reigning belle of

Bath. An anonymous poem, entitled, " The

Bath Picture," had a})peared, containing a des-

cription of the principal beauties then admired

at that fashionable watering-place. When the bard arrived at the name of Lady Margaret

Fordyce, lie could only afford her tlie following

moderate praise : ;

394* MEMOIRS OF

" Remark too the dimpling sweet smile

Lady Margaret's fair countenance wears."

Mr. Sheridan, who was often of Lady Marga- ret's parties, and felt for her the enthusiastic admiration of a young poet, seized the pen, and in an answer to " The Bath Picture,'* entitled, " Clio's Protest, or The Picture Varnish- ed," after several pretty severe strictures on other parts of the poem, thus castigates the

anonymous bard for his insensibility, and vindi-

cates the lady's transcendant charms :

" But hark ! did not our bard repeat

The love-born name of Margaret ?

Attention seizes every ear

We pant for the description here.

If ever dulness left thy brow,

Pindar, we say, 'twill leave thee now.

But oh ! old Dulness' son anointed.

His mother never disappointed ;

For after all we're left to seek

A dimple in Fordyce's cheek.

And could you really discover^

In gazing those sweet beauties over,

No other charm, no winning grace,

Adorning either mind or face, ; ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 395

But one poor dimple to express

The quintessence of loveliness.

Mark'd you her eye of sparkling blue ?

Mark'd you her cheek of rosy hue ?

That eye in liquid circles moving ;

That cheek abash'd at man's approving

The one, Love's arrows darting round,

The other blushing for the wound

Did she not speak, did she not move,

!" Now Pallas, now the Queen of Love

The reader of taste will perceive a great beauty in the sudden change of accent in the line beginning, " Mark'd you her eye," which actually gives the impression that the poet had struck into a new measure, although the poem is throughout in eight syllable verse.

The last eight lines were set to music, and became deservedly popular. They breathe the very soul and spirit of beauty, and flow with a force and fire which proves how successfully

Mr. Sheridan might have devoted himself to poetry, had not higher cares entirely absorbed his attention. 396 M E M O I 11 S OF

I shall not offer any more poetical extracts,

not to trench upon the claims of another pub-

lication ; but this one was necessary to show,

that if the Biographer of Mr. Sheridan had

read but a few lines more, he could never have

made the mistake of applying these verses to

Mrs. Sheridan, as he would have seen both the

name of " Margaret" and of " Fordyce" insert-

ed. As for the rest of the paragraph, granting the assertion upon which it is grounded to have been correct, the expression, "the extravagance of hyperbolical adulation," is mis-

placed : because, however inapplicable to Mrs. vSheridan's peculiar style of beauty the praise contained in the above lines might be, her claim to universal admiration, not only for personal charms, bnt for talent, taste, judgment, and excellence of disposition, placed her so high in the opinion of all who knew her, as to make it much more difficult to find expressions adequate to her merit, than to risk falling into enthusiastic praise. —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 397

The next passage I shall proceed to notice,

occurs in pages 193-4-5, in which the long-con-

tested question is debated, whether Mr. Sheri-

dan should have let his wife sing in public or not? a question in whicii the biograplier con-

sidering him as " a man possessing neither

pedigree nor property," p. 195, throws his

weight into the scale in favour of the measure.

I know that nothing is so likely to excite the

ridicule of the superficial, as an attempt to

vindicate family pretensions: yet, at the hazard

of encountering it, I must repel the first part

of this unfounded assertion. If an unbroken

descent from a family of equal antiquity and

respectability in Ireland ; a flimily which made

its rare boast that none of its descendants of

either sex had ever transgressed the laws of

honour, and which, though at the beginning of

the last century it no longer possessed the

large estates that the ancient geographers of

the kingdom assigned to the Slieridans, yet

never fell from its rank among the respectable

gentry of the county ofCavan Iftliis does not :

398 MEMOIRS OF

constitute a " pedigree" honourable, though not

ennobled, I am unacquainted with the mean-

ing of the term.

The learned and conscientious prelate Wil-

liam Sheridan, Bishop of Kilmore and Ardagh,

who held that united see in the reign of Charles

the Second, and was deprived for refusing to

take the oaths at the Revolution, was not, as

Dr. Watkins supposes (p. 2), a distant relation

of the Sheridan family. The grandfather of Dr. Thomas Sheridan was younger brother of

the Bishop of Kilmore. Perhaps it was the

beauty of the alliteration "Pedigree and Pro-

perty" in the preceding paragraph, that tempted

the biographer, who thus continues

" He carried his high notions so far, as to prevent his wife from singing at a royal concert,

alleging that such an exhibition would degrade

his character as a gentleman."— P. 193.

This is an unfortunate mistake. The bio-

grapher had heard something about a royal

concert, but totally mistook the circumstances.

The fact was, that Mr. R. B. Sheridan's ob- ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 399 jections were conquered in this one instance and he unhesitatingly gave his consent that his wife should sing at the royal concert ; the elevated character of that entertainment havinsr

obviated his former objections, Mrs. Sheridan was to have appeared there, when an unexpected change in the arrangements for the

royal amusements, into which it is unnecessary to enter more particularly in this place, occasioned the idea to be given up.

Dr. Watkins goes on :

" It was observed, and justly, that Sheridan having no property of his own, nor any calling by which he could 7naintain a familij, exerted an arbitrary authority in restraining his wife from following the occupation to which she had been bred, and by which she could not fail in a few years to realize a fortune."

Now Mr. Sheridan was at this time a member of the Middle Temple ; and, had not more tempting (perhaps not more fortunate) prospects opened to his view, he had as fair a promise of advancement in his profession as the 400 MEIVIOIRS OF

most brilliant and astonishing talents could

afford. His wife also was in no immediate

distress ; as the most highly gifted of his daugh-

ters, she was always distinguished by her father's

favour, and had made enough by her profes-

sional exertions before marriage as to render

the continuance of them unnecessary. But Dr.

Watkins thinks they owed their existence at that time to the Magazines.

" But he still continued inflexible, though it

was with great difficulty he could raise the necessary supplies, and that by very equivocal means. One of his resources was that of writing for the fugitive publications of the day, in which he was materially assisted by his wife.

" He has been heard to say, * Mrs. Sheridan and myself were often obliged to keep writing for our daily leg or shoulder of mutton, otherwise we should have had no dinner.' One of his friends to whom he confessed this, wittily replied, * Then I perceive it was a jomt C07i- cem* "

At tlie hazard of demolishing a story so MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 401 facetious, we must take leave to assure the biographer, that wherever he picked up that

Joe Miller, it can bear no reference to Mr. and

Mrs. Sheridan. Highly gifted and accomplished as was the latter, she never aspired to the honours of authorship ; and the very time fixed upon as the period of these obscure literary exertions was much passed by the young couple in different visits at the country houses of friends no less distinguished for virtue than for the high rank they held in society; — friends, who delighted in the extraordinary combination of merit and agreeable qualities that Richard

Brinsley Sheridan and his beautiful wife dis-

played ; but who would assuredly not have continued to value him if he had been the cha- " racter liere represented ; providing, by very equivocal means,''^ for an inglorious existence.

Before we dismiss the subject of music^ it is with pain that justice compels the notice of another instance of misrepresentation.

" Though he (R. B. Sheridan) continued to reject all th'3 overtures that were made for the 2 D 402 M E INI O I R S O F

public appearanceof his wife, he readily suf-

fered her to have private concerts, if they

could properly be so denominated, by which it

was probable more was obtained than could

have been received in the display of her skill

and melody in places of general admission.

" Thus the same thing xvas practised with a jiner name ; for whatever distinction an air of

fashion might have given to these concerts, the

subscription by which they were supported was in

reality the price given for an entertainment.

The income thus obtained at London and Bath was very handsome."— P. 196.

In all and every particular of this statement

the biographer was misinformed. Mr. and

Mrs. Sheridan gave some private concerts at

their house in Orchard-street, Portman-square,

as a return for the civilities and hospitality they

received from many persons of fashion and

consequence. A music-room was accidentally

annexed to their house, and it was the least ex-

pensive entertainment they could give ; the

performers consisting entirely of Mrs. Sheri- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 403

dan's family. Never, surely could the lovers

of music have received a more exquisite gratification than that which was afforded on these occasions by the combined talents of Mrs.

Sheridan, her father, her sisters, Mary and

Maria, and her brother, Tliomas Linley. But these concerts were, as I have already said, given as the discharge of a debt of civility already incurred. No money was ever received, nor were any such concerts given at Bath.

Richard Brinsley Sheridan and his wife certainly were in straitened circumstances, but he extricated himself by his own exertions. The comedy of " The Rivals," which met with great and deserved success, was succeeded by the opera of " The Duenna," which had a run never equalled in the annals of dramatic history but by that of the *' Beggar's Opera." His profit was proportionably great, and the early display of such talent seemed to point out to him a never- failing resource.

Yet while " The Duenna" was in rehearsal at

Covcnt Garden, Barry (then in his decline,)

^2 D ^^ ;

404 MEMOIRS OF expressed to the elder Mr. Sheridan his opinion that it would not succeed ; and gave as his reason, '* That there was too much church music in it ;" by which singular expression he meant the slow and solemn airs, " Oft does Hymen,'*

" O had my love," " Gentle Maid," " What

Bard, O Time," and others.

The event shewed that Barry was no prophet; and two years afterwards, " The School for

Scandal" placed Mr. Sheridan at the summit of theatrical celebrity. On this Dr. Watkins observes, some people were of opinion that the comedy not the performance of Sheridan "was ; by some it was attributed to the peii of Mrs. She- ridanr—V. 218.

With regard to Mrs. Sheridan's authorship, I have given a satisfactory answer in another place but here comes a more alarming accusation.

" There were persons who roundly asserted that the play xvas written by a young lady, the

daughter of a merchant i?i Thames Street ; that

at the beginning of tlie season, when Mr Sheri-

dan commenced his management, tlie MS. was !

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 405

put into his hands for his judgment ; soon after which the fair writer, who was then in a state of decHne, went toBristolHot-wells, where she died.

" Very obser^vable it is, tliat notwithstanding the general circulation of a charge, which, if true, must materially injure the moral and literary i-eputation of Sheridan, he never took the pains of repelling it, or of establishing his right to the brightest performance that bears his name.'*— P. 221. He never took the pains of repelling a report that his play was written by a

yoimg lady ! The School for Scandal, by a young lady^ the daughter of a merchant in Thames

Street ! !

But lest it should be said that exclamation is not argument, and that one single fact is worth the most eloquent expressions of indignation, I will here briefly give the history of " The School for Scandal," upon the undoubted authority of

the author's only surviving sister ; and thus oppose to the groundless calumny that clear refutation which Mr. vSheridan through his life dis- dained to give. 2 u 8 1'0() IM E ]\I O I 1! S O F

Early introduced into the world, and placed in difficult and critical situations, Mr. R. B.

Sheridan often saw his own name the sport of calumny, which, although it sometimes excited a smile, yet often gave rise to more painful feelings. At Bath, then famous for the manufac- ture and circulation of ungrounded stories, his duels and other romantic adventures were mag- nified and misrepresented in a thousand different ways. When he was recovering of his wounds, it was one of his amusements to read the daily accounts of himself in the papers and say, " Let

me see what they report of me to-day ; I wish to know whether I am dead or alive," &c. (The ridiculous and contradictory reports then afloat, certainly gave rise to the highly humourous duel scenes in "The Rivals" and "TheSchoolfor

Scandal.") Other falsehoods sunk deeper into his heart ; and having a mind turned to reflection, although his spirits were often led aw^ay by gaiety, the young poet conceived the noble plan of attacking the " Hydra, scandal, in his den," and exposing, in a spirited picture, the wide —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 407 extended mischief that may ensue from the encouragement of a censorious spirit.

His sister, who was with liim when these ideas were first working in his mind, had the opportunity of watching his thoughts as they arose, while yet they were

" Like diamonds in their infant dew."

His biographer says, " The moral tendency of " The School for

Scandal," is the part upon which its greatest admirers will find it difficult to say any thing con- clusive or satisfactory."

Certainly, those who seek for morality in the character of Charles Surface, will be disappointed, but if they look for the moral tendency of

" The School for Scandal" in the proper place, it will be found to be excellent. In Mr. Sheridan's play the faulty character of the piece is one common to the drama, though rendered partly original by the spirit, generosity and feeling, which the writer added from himself. The moral portion, on the contrary, is his own, and 2 D 4 a

408 MEMOIRS OF is conceived in a manner equally just, pointed, and forcible. It consists in a lively exposure of the effects of a baneful propensity, in which many scruple not to indulge, who would shrink from the imputation of any other failing, — propensity to slander and detraction. It points out to decided, though not to equal abhorrence, the dark and insidious plotter against reputation, the feeble and deceitful defender, the bitter and malignant censurer, and the good-humoured but thoughtless retailer of the envenomed lie.

These are chastised, perhaps reformed, by the characters of Lady Sneerwell, Mrs. Candour,

Sir Benjamin Backbite, and Lady Teazle ; and are taught to fear at least the shafts of ridicule, when to their hardened minds the moralist or tlie preacher might address themselves in vain.

For what I have further to say upon the subject I shall avail myself of his sister's * own

words, without whose sanction my remarks

could have no authority ; and as the suspicions

thrown out about " The School for Scandal"

* Mrs. Lefanu. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 409 have perhaps had some effect, it is trusted the answer will be read with candour and attention.

" The whole story of the supposed manner in which the play of The School for Scandal came into Mr. Sheridan's hands is perfectly groundless, the writer of these lines having frequently heard him speak on the subject long before the play appeared ; many of the characters and incidents related to persons known to them both, and were laughingly talked over with his family.'*

It is particularly remembered that, in the first sketch, the character which now bears the name of Mrs. Candour, went by that of Lady Kitty

Candour : a title which, I presume, Mr. She- ridan abandoned on account of its too great resemblance to one in a dramatic piece of Foote's

—Lady Kitty Crocodile ; which was supposed

to be meant for the Duchess of Kingston. Be- fore he put pen to paper, the fable, as perfectly

conceived and matured in his mind, was com-

municated to his friends ; and the expression he

made use of, described at once the completeness :

410 MEMOIRS OF and unity of liis plan. —" The comedy is finish-

ed ; / have now nothing to do hut to zvrite it.**

This mode of composition is probably the only one in which the author can hope to give to his

works the impression of energy and correctness.

The biographer continues

"It certainly is ?iot a little extraordinary, that while the other dramatic pieces of Mr. Sheridan have been committed to the press by his authority, and for his emolument, that which exceeds them all, and has brought most honour to his name, still remains unpubhshed," &c.—P. 218.

" When such stories were afloat, the obvious course pointed out by prudence and justice, was that of publishing the play."—P. 220.

*' This was not done, and the seclusion of the

piece within the walls of the theatre, together

with a total forbearance of all explanation on

the part of the manager, served to strengthen

the suspicion that, however embellished the tale

might be, it was not altogether fiction."-— P. 221.

In making these remarks, the biographer

seems to have forgot the nature of theatrical MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 411 literary property, or he would have perceived it was 7iot at all extraordinary that the " School for Scandal " should not have been published till the period of literary property was expired. It was not publishedy because Mr.

Sheridan chose to confine the performance of the play in London to his own theatre.

Once a play is printed, such a monopoly can no longer be enjoyed. If he therefore wished to profit by the fruits of his own labours, it was by no means to be expected of " Pru- dence," that she should point it out as his obvious course to print his play, and thereby give Mr. Harris, of Covent Garden, an equal right to have it performed at his theatre.* " The

Duenna," on the contrary, was not printed

* When the lapse of time gave to Covent Garden and other theatres the right of representing " The School for

Scandal," Mr. Sheridan had thoughts of publishing it along with his other plays, to which he meant to have prefixed pre- faces: and it is certainly to be regretted that his various avocations prevented the execution of this plan, which would probably have presented the public with a valuable body ol" dramatic criticism. 4fV2 M E M O 1 RwS OF because the copyright was disposed of to Mr.

Harris at the time it appeared. The Comedy of "The Rivals,'* was pubHshed during the run of the play. As Dr. Watkins is very fond of quoting the opinion of Dr. Johnson, whenever his opinion is inimical to the Sheridan family, we beg leave to remind him that Johnson, in recommending R. B. Sheridan for a member of the Literary Club, mentioned him particularly

as the author of the best modern Comedy ; without deiffuino; to niake the least reference to the absurd and ridiculous calumnies said to be even then already in circulation.

That Mr. Sheridan should have stopped just as his muse gave so rich a promise, must have been regretted by many, as well as by the noble bard who so elegantly eulogized his memory,

and who thus apostrophized him while living ;

" Oh, Sheuidan ! if aught can move thy pen,

Let Comedy resume her throne again ;

Give, as thy last memorial to the age,

One classic drama, and reform the stage

But, from a diiferent cause, complete success MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 413 sometimes produces the same effect as discouragement, in preventing an author from ven- turing again. Mrs. Inchbald, in her " Re- marks " upon the different reception of Gay's

" Beggars' Opera," and " Polly," observes, that an unsuccessful author ought to continue to write, and may perhaps write himself into repu-

tation ; but, that a perfectly successful one had better lay down his pen, lest a sudden blight

should fall upon his laurels. It may be further

observed, that from this time forward, Mr.

Sheridan was thrown into the busy vortex of

public life, and engaged in a distracting multi-

plicity of affairs, such as has perhaps seldom

fallen to the lot of one individual. The time

necessary for polishing and bringing works of

fancy to perfection was absolutely denied him :

and alaudablejealousy of his literary reputation

may be allowed in tlie man, who, not long after

his death, was concisely, but aptly cliarac-

terized by an eminent living tragedian, as having

" written the best comedy that ever was acted. 414 MEMOIRS OF

and spoken the best speech that ever was spoken."

Before I dismiss the subject of the drama, I

must notice the biographer's conjecture :

*' When it is considered Mr. Walhs was the

confidential agent of Mr. Garrick, and that Mr.

Ford stood on terms of the greatest intimacy

with him, some foundation is afforded to sub-

stantiate what was said at the time, that Mr.

Sheridan was indebted to the generosity of his friend and predecessor, Garrick, for the interest which he obtained in the concern of Drury

Lane." &c. To which it is only necessary to answer, that there is nofoundation for the assertion. Neither Mr. Sheridan nor his father ever had the least pecuniary obhgation to Garrick whatsoever.

Equally erroneous are the statements respecting the Linley family.

" In quick succession she (Mrs. Sheridan) lost two accomplished brothers." — P. 316.

Further on, it is said : —

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 415

" Thomas, the celebrated composer and per-

former on the violin, was carried off in a Jiw days by a raging fever. Another fine youth, named Samuel, urns accidentally drowned in a pond. Maria, who had been the delight of the

lovers of harmony by her extraordinary vocal powers, expired at the harpsichordy while singing the praises of her Redeemer.

"The remembrance of his unmarried daughter

(Maria), whose musical talents were the theme

of universal admiration, never failed (with Mr.

Linley) to open the bleeding wounds inflicted

by the awful manner of her dissolution.^^

*' Mr. Linley, in fact, never recovered from

the effects of this last heavy blow (the death of

Mrs. Sheridan); which hurried him to the

grave, leaving a widow and one son to lament,"

&c. Memoirs of the jniblic and private Life of

the Rt. Hon. R. B. Sheridan.

In these three paragraphs there are four mis-

statements. It was Mr. Thomas Linley, Mrs.

Sheridan's eldest brotlier (and not Samuel, as

stated in the *' Memoirs") wlio was unforlu- 416 MEMOIRS OF nately drowned, while amusing himself in a pleasure boat, at the seat of the Duke of An-

caster, in the year 1778. He was one year younger than Mrs. Sheridan (not seven years, as stated in the Memoirs, P. 128). Mr. Thomas

Linley was a young man of great merit, and uncommon musical abilities. Afew years after-

"wards, his younger brother, Samuel, a lieutenant in the navy, was cut off by a fever. In the year 1785, Miss Maria Linley died at Bath, of a fever. So that it appears, between the death of Thomas and Maria Linley, there was

an interval of seven years ; a space of time which hardly justifies the expression in the "Memoirs,'*

(P. 316) that Mrs. Sheridan had " scarcely poured forth her sorrows" over the untimely graves of her brothers, " before she was called upon to lament the death of her favourite sister, who expired at Bath on the fifth of September

1784, while singing Handel's exquisite and soul-enlivening anthem, ' I know that my Re- " deemer liveth.'

The extraordinary story of Miss Maria Lin- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 417

}ey*s " expiring at the harpsichord,'* is not cor-

rect. She died, as has been already stated, of a

fever ; and was attended by Dr. Harrington, a

gentleman no less celebrated for his medical skill

than for his musical abilities. A little time pre-

vious to her death, when confined to her bed,

she raised herself up, and with unexpected and

momentary animation sung a part of the anthem,

" I know that my Redeemer liveth." The

female attendant, who related the scene to Mrs.

H. Lefanu (the mother of the writer), described it as the most affecting she had ever witnessed.

The pathetic, and almost super-human sweetness of the notes breathed by the young and lovely creature, who was just departing from them, and the awful hope inculcated in the words of the air she had chosen, contributed to give an appearance of inspiration to this last effort of a voice that had delighted every ear. Dr. Har- rington was greatly overcome by tlie scene, and could only exclaim, " She is an angel !" as he left the room. Exhausted by the effort, she

2 E 418 MEMOIRS OF

sunk into the arms of her attendant, and shortly

afterwards breathed her last.

In the year 1787, Mrs. Sheridan experienced a still greater affliction in the death of Mrs.

Tickell, the sister nearest to her in age, and the chosen friend of her heart.

The mention of Mrs. Tickell naturally leads to the notice of a ludicrous mistake, though one of small importance, that occurs in Dr.

Watkins's " Memoirs,'* on the subject of Mr.

TickelPs second marriage.

** Not long after the death of his first wife,

M[r. Tickell married Miss Leigh, 'who is mentioned so respectfully in the preceding lettery and who deserved his esteem by her accomplishments and virtues. She was the daughter of a Commander in the Marine Service of the East-India Com- pany."

Here two very different ladies are manifestly blended into one : for the lady " so respectfully mentioned in the letter," was Miss Sophia Lee, of Belvedere House, Bath, author of " Canter- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 419

bury Tales," &c. under whose care Miss Tickell

was placed, and who never was married. The

beautiful Miss Leigh, whom Mr. Tickell took

for his second wife, as the reader will observe,

spelt her name differently.

The statement respecting Mr. Linley*s sur-

viving family is not more correct than the pre-

ceding one. He left three children ; two sons,

William Linley, Esq., the Rev. Ozias Linley,

and a daughter, Jane, afterwards married to the

late Charles Ward, Esq., Secretary to the Com-

mittee of Management of the Theatre Royal Drury Lane.

The following mis-statement, however, is an

error of greater magnitude ; and as it materially

affects the late Rt. Hon. R. B. Sheridan, tlie writer will be excused for dwelling more at length upon it, than on the preceding. It relates to the death of the first Mrs. Sheridan, at Bristol.

" One morning, when Mrs. Sheridan was about to take an airing on tlie neighbouring- downs, she found that the carriage and horses 2 E 2 420 :\i E M O I R S OF liad just been taken in execution by an unfeel- ing creditor. It may naturally be supposed that a shock so sudden and rude would operate with deadly effect upon a frame already en- feebled beyond the power of recovery, and hanging as it were by an imperceptible thread over the margin of the grave. The stroke, indeed, acted with similar violence to the wintry

blast upon a tender plant ; for the sufferer, bending before it, burst into tears, and retired into her chamber, out of which she never came again till the lifeless form was conveyed to the silent mansion, *' where the xvicked cease from

troubling y and where the weary ar^e at rest,**—

(Memoirs of the Right Hon. R. B Sheridan.)

It is not clear who is meant by the concluding quotation in the text, but the biographer may rest assured, that, through whatever channel he obtained the anecdote of the carriage being stopped, it is quite an invention.

Had such a circumstance taken place, Mrs. Sheridan was surrounded by tender and watchful friends, who never would have exposed her MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 421

to the chance of such a shock. The fact was, she was with great difficulty conveyed to Bristol, and never regained streng-th to bear the motion of a carriage. She ventured a few times to the Wells in a sedan chair, her husband walking beside her. Indeed, the affection and solicitude he shewed during the whole time of

her illness, was such as could not be surpassed.

A lady of the highest respectability, whose friendship for Richard Brinsley Sheridan and his wife was of twenty years* standing, and who was with Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan at the time of her decease, thus wrote to Mrs. H. Lefanu, who was in Ireland, and most anxious to know every particular respecting a friend so dear.

" The truth is, our poor friend is in a most precarious state of health, and quite given over by the faculty. Her physician here, who is esteemed very skilful in consumptive cases, assured me from the first it was a lost case ; but as your brother seemed

unwilling to know the truth, he was not so explicit to him, and only represented her as

'2 i; 3 !

422 MEMOIRS OF

being in a very critical situation. Poor man

he cannot bear to think her in danger him-

self, or that any one else should, though he

is as attentive and watchful as if he expected

every moment to be her last. It is impossible

for any man to behave with greater tender-

ness, or to feel more on such an occasion than

he does."

If these expressions do not contradict the

charge of thoughtless unkindness on Mr. Sheri- dan's part, which must be inferred from the anecdote in the text, I know of none sufficiently strong to answer that purpose. The description of Mrs. Slieridan's death-bed scene is still more striking.

" Our dear departed friend kept her bed only two days, and seemed to suffer less during that interval than for some time before. She was perfectly in her senses to the last moment, and talked with the greatest composure of her approaching dissolution, assuring us all that she had the most perfect confidence in the mercies of an All-powerful and merciful Being, from MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 423 whom alone she could have derived the inward comfort and support she felt at that awful moment. She said she had no fear of death, and that all her concern arose from the thoughts

of leaving so many dear and tender ties, and of what they would suffer for her loss !—Her own family were at Bath, and had spent one day

with her when she was tolerably well. Your

poor brother now thought it proper to send for

them, and to flatter them no longer. They im-

mediately came : it was the morning before she

died. They were introduced one at a time, at

her bed-side, and were prepared as much as

possible for this sad scene. All our feelings

were awakened for her poor father : the inter-

view between him and the dear angel was affect-

ing and heartbreaking to the greatest degree

imaginable. 1 was afraid she would have sunk

under the cruel agitation : she said it was in-

deed too much for her.

" She gave some kind injunctions to each of

them, and said every thing she could to comfort

them under this severe trial. They then parted,

2 E 4 ;

424 M E BI O I R S OF

in the hope of seeing her again in the evening

but they never saw lier more ! Mr. Sheridan

and I sat up all that night with her. Indeed,

he had done so for several before, and never

left her for one moment that could be avoided.

About four o'clock in the morning we per-

ceived an alarming change, and sent for her physician. She said to him, * If you can relieve me, do it quickly ; if not, do not let me struggle, but give me some laudanum.' His answer was ' Then I will give some laudanum.*

She desired to see Tom* and Betty Tickellt before she took it, of whom she took a most affecting leave. Your brother behaved most wonderfully, though his heart was breaking, and at times his feelings were so violent, that I

* Her son the late Thomas Sheridan.

f Miss Elizabeth Tickell, daughter of Richard Tickell,

Esq., and Mrs. Sheridan's beloved sister, Mary Tickell.

After Mrs. Tickell's death, Mrs. Sheridan had, with her husband's approbation, taken entire charge of her niece, whom she adopted, and who, after the death of that affectionate relation, was placed by Mr. Sheridan at Miss Lee's Seminary, in Bath. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 42J feared he would have been quite ungovernable at the last; yet he summoned up resolution to kneel by her bed-side, until he felt the last struggle of expiring excellence, and then gently withdrew.

*' She died at five o'clock in the morning, 28th of June 1792."

A few days after the funeral, Mr. Sheridan removed to a house he had at Islev»^orth, where he remained, " with no other companions but his two children," in wliom his heart w^as at that time entirely wrapped up. The little girl whom Mrs. Sheridan had left in infancy, was represented by all who saw her to have possessed a surprising degree of beauty : she was in fact the miniature of her mother ; but, as might be expected under the circumstances of her birth, small and delicate, and giving very little expectation of long life. This uncommon resemblance to her mother endeared the infant beyond expression to her afflicted parent, who could not bear her a moment out of his sight.

He was dreadfully agitated on liis arrival at 426 MEMOIRS OF

Isleworth, and though lie constrained himself to appear cheerfid in the presence of others, all his solitary hours were given up to the anguish of sorrow and regret ; still, for the sake of his son Thomas, who behaved to his father with constant and tender attention, but whose young mind required a change from the constant contemplation of melancholy objects, Mr. Sheridan resolved to make an effort, and in the beginning of August after his irreparable loss, he entertained a few intimate friends on a visit of a week at Isleworth. The following is a description of his deportment.

" We never saw him do the honour of his house before ; that, you know, he always left to that dear, elegant creature, who never failed to please and charm every one who ever came within the sphere of her notice. Nobody could have filled her place so well ; he seemed to have pleasure in making much of those whom she loved, and who, he knew, sincerely loved her.

We all thought he never appeared to so much advantage. He was attentive to every body ;

xMllS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 427 and every thing, though grave unci thoughtful and his fecHngs, poor fellow, often ready to break forth in spite of his efforts to suppress them. He spent his evenings mostly by himself."

Towards the end of October Mr. Sheridan took a house at Wan stead. He had his son

Thomas there with his tutor, Mr. Smyth, and had removed his nurseiy to it about a year, when, at a little evening entertainment, given chiefly to the young friends of his son, his feelings were destined to be shocked by the most dreadful domestic misfortune that could befal him,—the death of his infant daughter Mary, of which the following is a circumstantial account.

" My dear Mrs. Lefanu,

" I fear you will reproach me for not having sooner informed you of your poor brother's having lost his dear little girl. She was suddenly snatched from us in convulsions, after a few hours' illness. The circumstances attend- 428 IM E M O I R S OF ing this melancholy event were particularly dis-

tressing : a large party of young peo})le were assembled at your brother's, to spend a joyous

evening in dancing : we were all in the height of our merriment ; he himself remarkably cheerful, and partaking of the amusement, when the alarm was e-iven that the dear little anc^el was

dying ! It is impossible to describe the confusion and horror of the scene. He was quite frantic, and I knew not what to do. Happily there were present several kind, good natured men, who had their recollection, and pointed out what should be done ; Mr. Morris was present, and made himself very useful.* We very soon had every possible assistance, and for a short time we had some hope that her precious life would have been spared to us, but that was soon at an end."

* The late Edward Morris, Esq. M.P., youngest son of the late Dr. IMorris, and brother of Charles Morris, Esq., of

Southampton, and of George Paulet Morris, M.D. The late

Edward Morris, Esq. died a Master in Chancery. :

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 429

After a detailed account of tlie illness and death of the infant, the amiable.writer continues

" The dear babe's resemblance to her beloved mother after her death, was so much more striking that it was impossible to see her without

recalling every circumstance of that afflicting

scene ; and he (Mr. Sheridan) was continually in the room, indulging the sad remembrance.

In this manner he indulged his feelings for four or five days ; then, having indispensable business, he was obliged to go to London, from

whence he returned on Sunday, apparently in good spirits, and as well as usual. But however he may assume the appearance of ease and cheerfulness, his heart is not of a nature to be quickly reconciled to the loss of any thing he loves. He suffers deeply and secretly, and I dare say he will long and bitterly lament both mother and child.'*

These few extracts may prove interesting, as putting the character of the late Richard Brinsley

Sheridan in a new and just point of view. It remains now only to notice a few particulars 430 M E M O I U S OF

erroneously stated in his biography, relative to

his elder brother the late Mr. Charles Francis

Sheridan, p. 463. He is said to have been

•' in principle quite the reverse of his brother, who never lived with him on good terms.'*

This is not correct. Mr. Charles Francis

Sheridan was by no means the reverse of his brother in political principles, though from his early connexions he generally acted with government. Neither is it at all true that the brothers were not on good terms ; as it was during the short-lived Rockingham Adminis- tration, in which Richard Brinsley Sheridan was under Secretary of State, that he obtained for his brother the place of Secretary at War,

(not under Secretary of State for the War department, as mentioned by Dr. Watkins,) in

Ireland. The residence of the brothers in different kingdoms prevented their intercourse

from being frequent ; but when Mr. Charles

Francis Sheridan visited England, a short time before his death, the intercourse between him and his brother was perfectly friendly and cor- MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 431

dial. Their opinions in many points coincided ; for the talents of Charles Francis Sheridan were great as well as those of his brother. He was originally intended for the diplomatic line, in which it was a pity he did not continue, as no man was more formed by nature and education for success in it; possessing as he did the French language, (the universal language of courts,) in its utmost elegance and perfection, to which he joined an engaging suavity of manners, totally divested of the usual self-importance of office.

On his return from Sweden, where at the early age of twenty he enjoyed the confidential situation of Secretary to the British Embassy,

Mr. Charles Francis Sheridan wrote an account of the celebrated revolution, for which he was furnished with the most ample and valuable materials by the Ambassador, Sir John Good- ricke himself. Of the eagerness with which this work was received, Boswell gives the following amusing account. " At Mr. Dilly's to-day, were Mrs. Knowles, (the ingenious qua- 432 MEMOIRS OF kerlady,) Miss Seward, the Rev. Dr. Mayo, and t]ie Rev. Mr. Beresford. Before dinner Dr.

Johnson seized upon Mr. Charles Sheridan's

* Account of the late Revolution in Sweden,' and seemed to read it ravenously, as if he devoured it, which was to all appearance his method of studying. * He knows how to read

* better than any one,' said Mrs. Knowles ; he o-ets at the substance of a book directly ; he tears out the heart of it.' He kept it wrapt up in the tablecloth in his lap during the time of dinner, from an avidity to have one entertainment in readiness when he should have finished another : resembling (if I may use so coarse a simile) a dog who holds a bone in his paws in reserve, while he eats something else which has been thrown to him."

After his return from Sweden, Mr. Charles

Francis Sheridan was entered a student at the

Temple, and was called to the Bar in Ireland about the year 1779. A violent fever that endangered his life, and left great remains of ;

MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 433

weakness, induced him to give up the active

part of the profession ; and he studied that

branch of the law called special pleading. His

appointment of Secretary at War in Ireland,

obliged him to give up this respectable and lu-

crative branch of the law. Charles Francis

Sheridan was member of Parliament for the

borough of Belturbet, county of Cavan ; and

(from his office) a Privy Counsellor. Besides

the History of the Revolution of Sweden, he

was the author of a very celebrated tract upon

Poyning's Law, and of several other valuable

legal pamphlets. At his death he left a widow

very amply provided for, three daughters, and

two sons. In the Memoirs of the Right

Honourable Richard Brinsley Sheridan it is

erroneously stated that they both *' died in

the East, where they filled situations of trust,"

&c. —P. 463. Charles, the eldest, held a place

under government in Ireland, and died in that country a few years after his father. Thomas, the youngest son, was sent to India as a writer he was a young man of merit in every respect,

2 F 434 MEMOIRS OF and high in the esteem of his superiors, when he was carried off by a fever at Shiraz, in Persia, a short time after his going abroad.

Richard, the son of the elder Mr. T. Sheri- dan's brother, a barrister of high reputation, and

King's counsel, represented the borough of

Charlemont, in Ireland, having been called to that situation of trust by the late excellent Earl of Charlemont, solely in consequence of the high esteem that nobleman entertained for his character.*

With respect to the elucidations in justification of certain passages of the late Richard

Brinsley Sheridan's private life, I do not pretend to give any thing from myself, but write them as furnished to me from documents of the highest authority and respectability. They will not be deemed impertinent or misplaced, when his near relationship is considered to the amiable woman whose life forms the chief subject of

these Memoirs : a woman whose time was devoted to the duties of domestic life, and the

* See Hardy's Life of Lord Charlemont, Vol. ii. p. 318. MRS. FRANCES SHERIDAN. 435

education of her children ; a mother, whose distinguished talents and fond endearments were remembered and regretted by Mr. Sheri- dan, even in the meridian of his own fame and

distinction ; and who, could she look down from the place which we humbly trust her well-spent life must assign her, could not be supposed to consider the highest worldly success as a compensation for her son*s having deservedly incurred the charge of neglecting every virtue.

THE END. LONDON: rBINTEl) BY fox AND BAYI.IS, GREAT QUEEN STREET.

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